Changement
by Black.Rose.Authoress
Summary: The Bad Touch Trio strikes again. Although this time their "romantic assistance" will involve one of their own. #4 of TMAMT series.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello, all! Here's the next in my Bad Touch Trio matchmaking TMAMT series :D The sequel to Desaparición, Leunung, and Rivalry. The couple this time… PrussiaxCanada! Established SpainxRomano, GermanyxItaly, and USxUK as background couples. I would highly recommend reading at least Rivalry first, because otherwise this chapter will probably be rather confusing.

* * *

**Changement**

**Part 1**

Hiding in Spain hadn't been the greatest idea that France had ever had.

Reason #1 why this hadn't been his best idea ever: Spain had the complete inability to keep a secret. Particularly over things like this. All England had to do to pump the information from the oblivious idiot was walk up to him after a meeting when France and Prussia had already gone and ask in his sweetest voice "So, Antonio, I was just wondering where France and Prussia staying right now. Do you happen to know?"

To which Spain had replied with a bright grin. "Oh! They're staying at my house in Costa del Sol. It's so nice right now! We're right next to the beach…"

Reason #2 why this hadn't been his best idea ever: Romano hated France. Therefore, when England had turned up on Spain's front porch with a grinning America and the explanation that "I'm here to beat that frog's face in," Romano had swung the door wide open and gestured them inside.

"Second floor, third door on the right."

England had nodded once and started walking toward the staircase, leaving America behind with the scowling Italian.

"Hey," America eyed the shorter male for a few seconds, "You're Romano, right?"

Romano flashed him a semi-irritated glare. Not appreciating the questioning tone in his voice. "Yeah…"

"Lovi~ who's at the door?" And Spain stepped into the door, his voice still as cheerful as ever as he rubbed at his eyes sleepily. Having just woken up. Even though it was almost noon.

Romano took the sudden presence of his…boyfriend, lover, whatever…as giving him the perfect opportunity to escape from both idiots. "England is killing France and I'm going to make myself a cappuccino. Don't expect me to make you anything, bastard." And he made his way to the kitchen without another word.

America had perked up at the mention of coffee. "Hey, hey, you're making cappuccino?"

Spain pounced on this opportunity to praise his constantly-cranky lover. "Ah, Lovi makes the best cappuccino~ It's really so nice to start your morning with a cup. Particularly when you stayed up late the night before having—"

Romano apparently had been listening from the other room. "Shut the fuck up about that, bastard!! Fine, fine, I'll make your damn cappuccino, but just so you'll shut up!"

Spain grinned even more brightly and practically skipped into the other room, America following at a slower pace, although still excited about getting coffee into his system. It'd been a whole hour and a half since he had his last cup!

It was amazing how little they cared about the fact that France was quite possibly facing his last day on earth at this very moment.

A fact that was emphasized by a sudden loud thud and shout that came from above their heads when Romano set the mugs on the table in front of the other two nations, flashing both of them a personalized glare that expressed that this was a one time thing and they'd better be fucking grateful.

"Ah, Angleterre, I was only—!"

And another thump. This time a bit louder…

And then a crash of something breaking.

"Ve~ what's that noise?"

Another reason that this hadn't been France's most brilliant idea ever. He'd not only brought himself to hide in Spain's house, but also Prussia. Which Italy had decided meant that it was a party, so he'd tagged along. Of course, dragging Germany with him.

And the only person on earth who was even worse at keeping a secret than Spain happened to be Italy. He was probably the reason why England had even known to come to Spain in the first place.

Romano flashed his brother a glare, although he reserved his nastiest for the German who had entered behind him. "France is being murdered, idiot."

"Ve~!" Italy's eyes widened in surprise and he immediately chose to seek comfort by attaching to Germany's arm, which only increased the venom in Romano's glare. "France-nii is getting killed!! Ve~ Doitsu!! We should go rescue France-nii!!"

America chuckled as he took a sip of his drink. Damn, he needed to come here more often. Romano definitely knew how to make a good cappuccino. Although it definitely wasn't as good as his own coffee, but you couldn't expect the impossible. "I wouldn't. Iggy seemed pretty determined this morning. Besides, I doubt he'll hurt France _too _badly."

And there was the sound of a vase breaking.

"We had a vase in that room?" Spain questioned, barely even blinking at the sound. He'd grown rather desensitized to the sound of pottery smashing. You got used to it after living with Romano for any amount of time.

Romano didn't bother to justify that question with a response. Partly because he couldn't really remember.

Italy looked rather concerned for a moment more before he was distracted by the fact that he happened to be in a kitchen. And everyone knew what a kitchen meant…

Pasta!

"Ve~ we should have pasta for dinner!" he exclaimed, skipping forward to the stove, leaving Germany in the doorway, apparently trying to decide between entering and possibly being trapped in this abyss of insanity. Or leaving and locking himself away in the library for the rest of their stay.

He was definitely leaning toward the latter. And probably would have left if an arm hadn't suddenly draped over his shoulder, a chin resting on the opposite shoulder.

"What's this about Francis having the shit beat out of him by Artie?"

America flashed the albino a definitely hostile look. Still not having entirely forgiven him for the whole 'pretending to date Iggy' thing. And not appreciating the fact that Prussia was using a rather familiar nickname for him. "Iggy's still pretty pissed about your little scheme…"

"Aw, sad." He replied with a smirk.

Germany flashed his brother a quick, slightly concerned glance at that remark. It wouldn't have been noticeable to most, since Prussia for the most part was rather good at hiding his true feelings. But he definitely sounded different than his usual self. Less cocky, more like he was only partly paying attention to his own words. Somewhat distant…

He blinked slowly, rather confused. What in the world could be wrong? His brother was never really concerned about anything…

Unfortunately, his thoughts were thrown off course when a body pushed Prussia aside, knocking his head into Germany's and causing him to start cursing in rapid German.

They hadn't noticed that the thumping had stopped until now, as England stepped inside with a rather smug expression stretched across his lips.

America beamed back. "Hey, Iggy. You happy now?"

"Quite." He nodded and then took a seat at the table. "Quite."

* * *

A/N: And the madness begins. Ahh, I love these guys so much. Don't you love how concerned France's friends are about him?

And for anyone who doesn't know, cappuccino was created by Italians. I consider it to probably be more of something that Romano would be good at making, since I don't think anyone would ever allow Italy near anything with caffeine. The world might explode if that happened…

And the decision to place then in Costa del Sol was totally random, lol. ;D It was the first thing that I could find when I googled seaside towns in Spain.

Finally, Changement means "Change" in French.


	2. Chapter 2

**Changement**

**Part 2**

Canada was rather painfully aware of the fact that he was currently acting like a teenage girl who'd just broken up with her boyfriend. Sitting on the couch, watching soap operas, and eating chocolate ice cream.

Those girls definitely knew what they were doing, though. Chocolate ice cream could solve anything.

And soap operas were possibly the most addicting things he'd ever seen.

"Don't believe him! He's sleeping with your sister!" he yelled (or in anybody else's terms, whispered). "Jack is the one who really loves you! Once he wakes out of his coma, he'll tell you!"

After this outburst, Canada reached toward the tub of chocolate ice cream that he'd set down during this particularly intense scene, just to realize that it was completely empty.

Which it hadn't been a few seconds ago.

He turned toward the couch's other resident. Who was attempting to look as innocent as a white bear covered with brown chocolate ice cream could look. "Kumichi…"

Kumajiro immediately took this as a sign that leaving would be in his best interest, so he hopped down onto the floor and began walking toward the kitchen without another look back at his master.

Canada sighed as he stared at the empty box. Well, that was annoying. Now he'd have to go out and buy some more ice cream. He groaned and stood up, walking to the hallway, where he grabbed his key from the key rack. Deciding that he'd deal with cleaning Kumajiro once he got back.

He pulled on a coat, scarf, and gloves before setting outside, sighing as he slipped back into thought now that he didn't have the television to distract him. He really should go out and do something instead of remain hiding in his house and bingeing on chocolate ice cream and bad television shows. But…

The image that he'd been trying to suppress for the past week immediately rushed full force to the front of his mind. Gilbert…with England… Laughing, enjoying himself, in that date-like setting… And then kneeling in front of him and saying those words that immediately crushed Canada's heart into tiny shards.

He was in love with Prussia. He'd admitted that to himself long ago. He…unlike certain nations he could mention…happened to have been cursed with the ability to understand his own feelings very well. So he'd immediately known why his heart had a tendency to skip a beat whenever the albino would throw an arm over his shoulder while they were on lunch break and ask him to play hooky with him…and why he looked forward to the days when Prussia would burst into his house, demanding maple syrup at an ungodly hour of the morning…

He was also well-aware that there was no way that Prussia could like him back. They were complete opposites, after all. He was Canada, the nation that no other country could bother to remember for more than a few seconds. Prussia was…well…Prussia. Everyone knew who he was…he didn't even have a country anymore and everyone knew who he was. He made sure of that, after all.

He was loud, self-confident; Canada was quiet and meek. He'd never been able to stand up for himself. Even against his brother. They were about as different as you could possibly get…

Still, he'd started to hope. He'd known it was stupid, but…Prussia always remembered him. He'd suddenly show up out of the blue at his house, sometimes spending the night if Germany was angry with him. Canada had started to hope that maybe they could somehow beat the odds and well...actually get together… Stranger things had happened, after all.

And then that whole mess had happened. Seeing Prussia with England…even if it was just part of an overly complex plot to get England and America to finally stop dancing around their feelings…had only emphasized the thought that he'd already had.

That he was just going to have his heart broken if he kept this up.

Which was why he hadn't left his country since then. He'd disconnected his landline and wouldn't answer his cell phone unless his boss wanted to talk to him, which had only happened once so far. He'd checked his messages earlier this morning and had been surprised to see that he had about thirty missed calls and fifteen text messages, all from Prussia (except for one text from his brother that he'd actually opened and was filled with him rambling on about some new video game he'd bought).

He'd wanted to read them, but he knew that he couldn't. The only way to make sure that he didn't get his heart broken was to separate himself from the Prussian.

It would also help if he could get himself to stop thinking about him.

So he forced his attention onto the road as he continued to his favourite family-run grocery store. He stepped inside, receiving a smile and 'good evening' from the owner. She was seated behind the register, reading a magazine, like she usually was when he came in. Canada smiled back and replied with a good evening, then made his way to the back, where he knew the ice cream was waiting for him in the freezers.

He picked out a box of chocolate. And then another box, because knowing Kumajiro, one wouldn't be enough. And then…well, three might be good. He was going through his ice cream rather quickly. And, maybe he should get a few different flavours…

He returned to the register in a few minutes, balancing ten boxes of ice cream in his arms.

The woman just stared at him in surprise and then responded with a "Are you having a party, Mr. Williams?"

"Uh…sure…" Maybe ten was a bit too much. But he did have that huge freezer in the basement that had quite a few shelves that weren't in use right now…

"Um, Mr. Williams," she remarked, as she began to scan the boxes through. "I know it's none of my business, but is something wrong?"

Canada immediately hesitated. Was it that obvious? "Not really…Just…" He paused again and sighed…

"A girlfriend?"

He almost choked at that. "G—girlfriend?"

She continued to stare at him, now smiling slightly at his nervous expression. "I have a son, I recognize the expression. Unrequited love?"

"Ah—kind of—" This was possibly one of the most awkward conversations he'd ever had with a human.

"You're a very nice man, Mr. Williams. I'm sure that she'll soon realize that."

"Ah…sure…I—yes—" Definitely awkward.

"Give her flowers. Girls like that."

And now he was imagining trying to give flowers to Prussia…

"And chocolates. And always compliment her when she gets a new dress. My ex never complimented me on anything I wore."

…In a dress. He wasn't sure whether to burst out laughing or try to bleach his brain to get rid of the image.

"Ah, I've gotta go. I left my bea—I mean, my dog—alone…"

"…He never complimented me on anything at all. Always insulted my cooking. I should've left him long before I did…"

She wasn't listening, so he hurriedly grabbed his bags. "Goodbye, have a nice night."

"And he'd leave the window open at night so our room was absolutely frigid in the morning. Completely inconsiderate man…"

Canada hurried out of the door, leaving behind the now ranting woman.

Honestly, sometimes humans made the nations look normal…

* * *

A/N: Poor little Canada-kun :( And I don't know which are weirder...humans or nations.

So, while going out on ridiculous adventures in the past 2 days (so much traveling all around London and then out to Bath, Windsor, and Stonehenge and now I'm in Edinburgh, Scotland while writing this) I bought 2 epic epic things… One being a full-sized Union Jack flag (one step closer to building my flag shrine), and the other being a pin that has the American flag and English flag right next to each other. USxUK pins FTW!! xD And while on the London Eye I noticed all these flags on a building and noticed the Italian flag…which happened to be right in between the Spanish flag and German flag ;D SpainxRomano and GermanyxItaly!! Lol. A day of much OTP love, apparently. (Yeah, my already unhealthy obsession with flags has only been exacerbated by Hetalia)

And I just ate a ridiculous amount of jellybeans while writing this… Some of which were not happy jellybeans to eat. Stupid addictive jellybeans with nasty flavours hidden within the yumminess. *keeps munching on jellybeans*…My A/Ns are always so random, I really need to attempt to stay on topic… Ew…popcorn flavoured jellybean ;(


	3. Chapter 3

**Changement**

**Part 3**

"Hello, you've reached the phone of Matthew Williams, sorry, I can't answer the pho—"

Prussia snapped his phone closed for what was possibly the twentieth time in the past fifteen minutes, groaning in irritation as he glared at the object. "Come on, Mattie…You can't ignore me forever."

Although he had to admit. He was doing a pretty good job of ignoring him right now. He'd been calling him practically nonstop since the fiasco last week and Canada hadn't answered once.

He'd never felt like this before. Completely unsure of himself. Should he fly over to Canada and just show up on his doorstep like he had a tendency to do all the time anyway? Or should he give him space? It was driving him nuts. He didn't even know why the kid was so upset in the first place…

"Bruder? Are you in there?"

Prussia glanced up from his spot on the bed, sprawled out to take up every inch of space. Gilbird was napping on his stomach, moving up and down as he breathed. He vaguely watched his chick's movement as he considered whether he wanted to answer his brother or not.

"Yeah, the awesome me is in here, Westen. What's up?"

Germany slowly pushed the door open, wincing as he got a good look at the disaster that was his older brother's bedroom. "Don't you ever clean in here?"

"Awesome people don't clean. It's part of why you're so unawesome, Westen." He suddenly jerked to a sitting position, causing Gilbird to fall into his lap with a surprised cheep. "That's it! It looks like you're not completely hopeless, Westen! We've just gotta get rid of your anal cleanliness!"

Germany sighed, looking like he was starting to regret coming in here in the first place. "What's wrong, bruder? You're not acting like yourself."

Prussia stared at his brother in surprise, distractedly lifting the still indignant chick from his lap and placing him on top of his silvery hair. "Ha, what're you talking about, Westen? Of course I'm acting like my awesome self…"

"Does it involve…" He hesitated, the name slipping from his mind. "That one country that you used to visit all the time…"

"Mattie. His name is Mattie." He sighed in irritation as he leaned back against the headboard. "Damn it, Westen, it's not that hard."

Germany decided not to respond to that and instead walked over to the bed, shoving his brother aside so he could take a seat. "You're angry that he punched you?" he questioned, rather confused by why his brother would be upset by that. He'd had a lot worse than that done to him and he'd never been upset by it before.

"Of course not! The awesome me doesn't get upset by sissy stuff like that!" He responded indignantly, scowling up at his younger brother.

"Then what's wrong?"

Prussia just stared at him for a moment and then…his gaze shifted slightly to the side. And then he lay back down and rolled onto his side, displacing Gilbird again. "Nothing's wrong."

Germany sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He shouldn't have come in here. He had no idea how to deal with a moody older brother. "Come on, bruder. I know you better than that. Why are you so upset about…" He hesitated again, the name slipping from his mind again.

"Mattie! Damn it!" Prussia jerked back to a seated position. Poor Gilbird cheeping yet again as he fell onto the bedspread. He glared furiously at his older brother. "Why can't anyone ever remember him?!"

Germany was startled by the venomous response. He hadn't seen Prussia get this angry in a long time. "I'm sorry, bruder. Mattie. His name's Mattie." And this felt awkward. Using another country's human name like this…

Prussia continued to glare at him for a few moments more, then nodded and leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling distractedly as he lifted Gilbird back into his lap and began to smooth his ruffled feathers.

They remained like that for a few more minutes, Germany not sure what to say. He still didn't know why his brother was so upset. And he felt like he should know, but… He'd never been good with feelings and stuff like that…

Which was why he was incredibly relieved to hear a soft knock against the door and then a very familiar voice call, "Ve~ Doitsu? Are you in there?"

Prussia perked up at Italy's voice, sitting up straighter and smiling, flashing a smirk toward Germany. "Looks like your boyfriend's here."

Germany frowned slightly, but then called "Yes, I'm in here, Italy."

The door was pushed open at that and Italy peeked inside, grinning at seeing the two brothers sitting on the bed. "Ve~ I'm not interrupting something, am I?"

"Of course not, Feli," Prussia responded, scooting away from his brother to create a space in between them. "We were just talking." He patted the now empty space and beamed toward the smaller nation, who accepted the invitation and plopped between them, immediately cuddling against Germany's side, causing him to blush slightly. Although he did respond by wrapping an arm around the Italian and pulling him slightly closer.

Italy smiled up at him and then turned his attention back to Prussia. "What were you and Doitsu talking about?"

"Eh, nothing." Now his smile started to falter, although he managed to keep it from disappearing completely. "Just…the other nations and…"

"Matthew," Germany interrupted, wishing that he knew the other nation's country name.

Italy looked slightly confused for a moment, to which Prussia responded with an irritated, although not as irritated as when he'd been talking to Germany, response of "Canada."

"Oh…" Italy nodded, although he still looked confused enough that Germany doubted that he actually had any idea who that was. He was getting vague images… Snow…Polar Bear.

"Blonde, carries a polar bear, adorable, second-biggest nation on earth, lives north of that hero-idiot."

Ah, the images were starting to grow a bit clearer. Yes, the blonde, quiet nation. He had one of those hair curls…

"Oh! Yes! He has the talking bear!" Italy answered, now clapping his hands excitedly, apparently proud of himself for remembering.

Prussia nodded. "Yep, that's him."

"Doesn't Prussia-nii like him?"

Both other nations just stared at him in shock, amazed by the sudden statement. Which he'd said almost as if it were completely obvious.

Then Prussia laughed, his voice sounding surprisingly nervous. "Ha, what are you talking about, Feli?"

Italy just smiled obliviously, grinning first at Prussia and then Germany, who wanted to smack himself in the face. It was so obvious… Although, he wasn't surprised that he hadn't noticed. This was yet another example of his failure at dealing with relationships and feelings and all of those things that he sometimes wished would just go away.

"Is Canada mad at you, Prussia-nii?" Italy continued, completely ignoring Prussia's sputtered denial. "You should apologize. With pasta!! Or flowers…or ice cream. I think he likes ice cream. Ooh, you should send him some gelato!"

Italy was off in his happy place right now; rambling on about what kind of gelato he should send. And then he started talking about what his favourite kind was… And that strawberry gelato was nice. Or he could send some banana-flavoured gelato, although he should make sure to get real home-made gelato and not the kind made with the mixes, because they weren't as good. Ooh, he could make him some gelato! He could make really good gelato.

Germany tuned him out. He'd gotten rather good at doing so, since Italy had a tendency to start rambling on and on…and on…when he started talking about food or anything like that.

"So, you like Canada?" he instead questioned his brother. It really was rather obvious, although he was still a bit surprised… For one thing, he'd never really pegged his brother as being the type to ever fall in love with anyone besides himself. And, even if he did, he'd have expected him to just go and 'seize his vital regions'—to use his own terms. This sitting in his room and acting nervous and unsure of himself was very uncharacteristic of his overly-confident older brother.

"I know!" Italy suddenly exclaimed, bringing Germany back from his thoughts. "I know! You should ask France-nii for help! Canada used to be his colony and he'll be good at helping you figure out to make Canada fall in love with you!"

"No…no way…The awesome me is not going to Francis for anything like that. The awesome me isn't in love with him anyone… That's too unawesome…"

Italy used his selective hearing to his advantage in this situation. Completely ignoring Prussia's protests and suddenly jumping to his feet, grabbing Prussia's arm and tugging him to his feet and toward the door. Prussia was so startled that he obeyed without protest. "Come on, Prussia-nii! Come on!"

"Hey, what are you—Wait…Feli!"

And Germany just remained sitting on the bed, listening to his brother's protests and Italy's excited exclamations until they were too quiet to hear. Then he glanced around the filthy room.

He couldn't clean. Prussia wouldn't be happy with him for touching his stuff...

He sighed, as he stood and walked out of the room to his cleaning closet. Yes. This was one mental argument that he knew he wasn't about to win, so he might as well get to work.

* * *

A/N: Awww, Germany's trying to be a good little brother ;D *huggles* And Italy…Oh, Italy… You're taking Prussia to FRANCE for relationship help?

And I'm rather impressed with my multi-tasking right now, as I wrote most of this while staring out of the window of the train… As the Scottish countryside and mountains and everything are ridiculously pretty… Actually, I'm posting this while I'm on the train. Woot ;D

Just as random note too, I got to go to Loch Ness yesterday!! xD Although Nessie didn't show up. Lol. It was pretty awesome though, particularly since I've had an obsession with the Loch Ness monster since like…third grade. Yay!! So, yeah. I'm really happy right now :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Changement**

**Part 4**

He needed to get up and do something. Sitting on the couch and feeling sorry for himself wouldn't help anything.

Still, it was just getting to the good part…

Canada had returned to his previous occupation when he returned home—after washing Kumajiro off—although he'd decided to switch things up with his ice cream flavours and was now halfway through a box of cookie dough.

Kumajiro was sitting on his lap, his slightly damp fur feeling nice against his bare arm.

It was actually a rather peaceful scene.

And it depressed him.

Because this was usually the exact sort of scene that would be set up before Prussia suddenly burst into the house, letting in a gust of frigid air, cursing about the weather, stomping snow all the way from the front door to his couch, where he'd plop down before swiping his ice cream.

He sighed. This wasn't working. He couldn't just forget about the other nation.

"Kumakimi, what do you think I should do?" he questioned. Yep, he was asking his polar bear for relationship advice. Why not? He'd probably be more helpful than that lady had been.

"Who?" the bear asked, glancing up at the person who'd been petting him for the past half hour or so.

Canada's palm found its way to the usual place it occupied when dealing with his brother. "Ca-na-da… I just gave you a bath…" Sometimes he wondered if his pet might have selective amnesia. He wondered if you could get that treated... Not that he'd have any idea how to go about it.

Kumajiro stared at this stranger for a moment, and then crawled up so he was resting his front paws on his chest and was looking him in the face. Canada removed his hand from his face, staring at the bear in surprise.

"Canada?" he questioned, tilting his head to the side slightly.

Canada nodded before gently stroking his bear's head, a slight smile twitching over his lips. "You know Gil, don't you? He's the guy with the white hair that'll show up all the time and will slip you scraps under the table when he thinks I'm not looking."

Ah, yes. Kumajiro liked that guy.

"I don't know what I should do…" He sighed. "Should I just give up? We're so different…"

"No."

Canada jerked slightly at the response. He hadn't actually been expecting Kumajiro to answer him. "No? You don't think I should give up."

"No." Kumajiro had now noticed the half-empty bowl of ice cream sitting on the coffee table… Hm, now to figure out how to get it without Canada seeing.

"Well, then what should I do?" Was he supposed to try to pursue the Prussian? Confess to him? He didn't have any experience in the area of romance. And definitely didn't know how to deal with romance in relationship to Prussia.

Kumajiro had dropped down into his lap, taking Canada's momentary distraction as the perfect opportunity to begin his mission to capture the ice cream.

This was insane. There was no way that Prussia would like him back. Ever… And…And… he'd be taking advice from a bear who couldn't even remember who he was for more than five seconds.

But…then again…

He could feel the tiniest twinges of hope. Maybe he could do this. Maybe he could make Prussia like him back…

After all, England and America had finally gotten together and he'd never have thought they'd ever be able to get past their mutual denial and obliviousness… Of course, then again, that whole thing had been brought about by France, Spain, and Prussia's dirty trick that had started his own mental mess.

Wait a minute…

France, Spain, and Prussia.

Those guys were best friends. They were always hanging out together… If anybody would have any idea of how best to confess to Prussia, it would be France or Spain.

He couldn't believe that he was even considering this. Go to France or Spain for relationship advice? Really?

He already knew what his former brother-figure would say if he found out about this. He shuddered slightly at the memory of when he'd first had the wonders of 'l'amour' explained to him by the much-too-detailed older nation. No, no way. He was not going to ask France for anything dealing with love.

And Spain?

He frowned at that, not noticing that Kumajiro had reached the ice cream and was now proceeding to cover his fur with melting sugary goodness.

Spain… He didn't really know Spain all that well, but he _was _known as the country of passion or something like that. Which might mean that he'd have some rather extensive knowledge about romance and relationships. And he was dating Romano, which meant that he knew how to deal with incredibly difficult relationships…

He thought that idea through for a few more minutes. It…it couldn't hurt? They'd been friends for a really long time, so he had to know at least some things about Prussia that could help, right?

Slowly, he rose to his feet, part of his mind convinced that he was absolutely insane. What in the world was he doing? He knew this wasn't going to work out…

But…

"All right, Kumachi. I'm going to go out." Which suddenly made him aware of the fact that his bear was no longer on his lap. He looked around and instantly groaned. He was sitting on his table… Licking at the bowl that had once held the rest of Canada's melting treat.

Nevermind. He was going to go out once he'd washed his bear again and then locked all of the ice cream in a place where nosy, troublesome pets could never ever find it.

* * *

A/N: Oh, Canada… Going to Kumajiro for relationship advice…? And now Spain? ;D Mwahaha. *rubs hands together evilly* The Authoress likes. The Authoress thinks she can create chaos now.

Yeah, so this chapter is a short one. And it made me want cookie dough ice cream.


	5. Chapter 5

**Changement**

**Part 5**

Canada was already starting to second-guess his decision to come to Spain for advice. Mainly due to the fact that the door had not been answered by the sunny, happy, good-natured Spaniard. Oh, no. There was no way that the universe was going to be that kind to a poor, love-struck Canadian.

Romano had been standing in the doorway when it swung open. And, after a few initial moments of staring at him in incomprehension—judging by his state, he'd probably just woken up, although it was almost noon by now—he scowled irritably at the Canadian. "I already told you, America, that I'm not making you another cappuccino, damn it."

And then the door started to slam shut in his face. Canada hurriedly reacted, "Ah, wait! I'm not America!" Why did everyone always mistake him for his brother? They didn't look that much alike!

The door had managed to close by this point, but, after a moment, it opened a crack. Just enough for Romano to peer out at him, his expression still suspicious. "You aren't?"

"No, I'm Canada." He pointed back toward Kumajiro, who was sitting on the front step, sniffing at one of the many tomato plants that lined the porch. "See? Canada."

For a long moment, Romano just stared at him. His expression remaining blank. Then he snorted. "Never heard of you." And slammed the door shut.

"H—hey!" He jumped forward, trying to stop the door from closing, but was unsuccessful.

His shoulders fell forward in disappointment and he sighed, glancing back at Kumajiro, who was attempting to figure out whether the interesting red things hanging off the plant were edible. "Well, I guess we'd better go back home, Kumajiji."

Kumajiro glanced up at him and then ignored him. Instead, he sat on the porch and started attempting to knock one of the odd red circles out of the green leaves with his nose.

And then, before he even had a chance to start walking off the porch, the door was flung open and a rather messily-dressed Spaniard appeared in the entryway, panting slightly as if he'd just run in order to get here.

"Ah, América, lo siento. I was upstairs." Canada was struck by the fact that his expression was quite possibly the exact opposite of Romano's. Whereas the Italian had been—and was still—glaring at him suspiciously, Spain looked absolutely thrilled to have a visitor.

This might be a good idea, then, since they were just as opposite in personalities as he and Prussia were, if not more so.

"Come in!" He took a step back so Canada could enter, skipping back to where Romano was leaning against a nearby wall. "Lovi~ you shouldn't slam the door in our guest's face."

Romano ignored him, turning and stomping off into one of the other rooms. Which Spain didn't even react to, apparently completely used to it by now. Instead, he just turned and smiled toward Canada again. "So, what are you doing back so soon, América?"

"I'm not America, I'm Canada," Canada responded, deciding to try to get that out of the way. Kumajiro hadn't even noticed that his master had left him, as he had managed to knock one of the tomatoes down and was now pushing it with his paw, still attempting to figure out what it was.

"Oh?" Spain still looked confused. Then his eyes widened slightly in comprehension. "Oh! You were Francis's little colony!"

Canada nodded, slowly following as Spain skipped off into the room that Romano had entered. "Lovi~ this isn't América, it's Canadá."

Canada followed them into the room and watched in amazement as Spain started to flutter around the room, moving pillows from the couch so Canada would have somewhere to sit, setting out three mugs on the coffee table, darting back into the kitchen and bringing out a pot of coffee. All of this while recounting how France used to bring Canada to visit him and Prussia when he was just a little colony… "You were so cute~!" he cooed excitedly, earning him an exasperated look from Romano.

Who had moved to lean against a wall in here, simply watching as Spain darted around the room, acting the perfect host. Canada wasn't entirely sure what to do now; he hadn't really thought through what he'd do if Romano was at Spain's house, although he probably should have expected it. Admitting that he was in love to one nation was embarrassing enough, let alone telling two…and one of them being Romano, who actually intimidated him a little bit.

After a few more minutes of frantic motion, Spain dropped down onto one of the couches and grinned up at Canada. "So, what brings you here, Canadá?"

Ah, and here was the part that he wasn't really looking forward to…having to explain his presence. He slowly walked over to another couch and sat down, waiting as Spain poured him a cup of coffee.

He glanced back towards where Romano was standing. He'd moved a bit closer when Canada sat down, although he was still standing behind Spain's couch, instead of sitting on it.

"Um…I had something to ask you…" He took a nervous sip, almost burning his mouth since he hadn't given it time to cool. Calm down, this wasn't a huge deal. He was just asking for advice. The worst that could happen would be that Spain didn't know.

Or that he'd laugh.

Or that he'd tell all the other nations about Canada's crush and they'd all laugh at him…if they could even remember who he was for long enough to make fun of him.

And his brother and England would probably freak out on him if they found out, since neither of them had entirely forgiven the ex-nation yet for pretending to be dating England…

Scratch that, he had plenty of reasons to be nervous.

"Ah, I wanted to ask you something about…about…" He knew he must be blushing furiously right now.

Spain blinked at him curiously and then a wide smile broke out over his face. "Ah, you look just like Lovi does when he turns red like a tomato!"

He received a smack on the back of the head from Romano for that one.

Canada's flush only grew more tomato-like at that. Okay, come on, you can do it, Matthew.

"I—you—I-want-to-know-what-I-should-do-to-make-Prussia-like-me!" He whisper-shouted it out as quickly as he could and then flinched backwards, ready for the laughter or the exclamations of 'are you kidding me?'

He was rather surprised to not receive either. Instead, he received complete silence for a moment and then…

"Aw~!! Que lindo!!"

Canada hadn't been expecting that. He glanced up, rather surprised by the statement. Spain was now staring at him with an expression that was rather starry-eyed.

"So cute~!! You like Prussia? Of course I'll help!!"

Romano snorted at Spain's statement, leaning over the back of the couch so he could stare more closely at the Canadian. "You like the other potato bastard? Why?"

"Aw, Lovi~ you don't question _amor_~"

Romano winced at the remark. "Don't say that, you sound like that French bastard."

"Ah." Canada wasn't sure why he loved Prussia. Really, he wasn't even sure when he'd fallen in love with him… Somewhere between all the illegal break-ins into his house and the mornings spent bonding over pancakes drenched in maple syrup… "I don't know…"

Spain had jumped to his feet as some point during this conversation and now suddenly attacked Canada with a hug. "So cute~!! What do you want to know? I'll help with whatever you need!"

Romano rolled his eyes at his lover and shook his head at Canada. "You're definitely going to regret this," he remarked before walking off into the kitchen, almost tripping over a white bear that was rolling a tomato across the floorboards. For a moment, he just stared at it in confusion…then decided that he didn't feel like dealing with any weird bear things with tomatoes right now and walked over to the cupboards in search of breakfast/lunch.

In the other room, Spain had now moved so he was sitting beside Canada and was staring at him with a slightly-mischievous expression that reminded Canada way too much of his former brother-figure. Maybe he should have just gone back to that crazy cashier lady for advice.

"So, you want to know how to make Prussia like you?"

"Um, yes," he replied, blushing again.

Spain grinned, his memories flickering back to those days…the days when Prussia and France had forced him away from his little Lovi… He still hadn't entirely forgiven them for that… And then there was that day when Prussia had locked him in one of England's room with a very angry Lovi—not that he'd not enjoyed that, but then Prussia had burst into the room right when things were about to get more interesting…

Hmm, he already knew that Prussia was rather madly-in-love with the little Canadian. Not that he'd admit it… And that meant that things could really turn out interesting…

"Well, I may have a few ideas…"

* * *

A/N: Yep, Spain can be a manipulative bastard sometimes too when he wants to ;D Oh, Prussia, you didn't think you'd completely get away with torturing Spain, did you?

And Kumajiro is rather confused by the tomato. Lol.

Hmm, so in totally random news, for anyone who happens to have a facebook account, my group of Hetalia buddies and I created an "Axis Powers Hetalia Fanworks" facebook group (look it up with that name), if anyone would be interested in joining. For sharing links to fanfics, fanvids, all that sort of stuff… We just set it up yesterday, so we've only got a few people that have joined. ;D Anyway, look it up on facebook if you wish.

And now that we're done with the blatant self-advertising, here are my exclamations of love love. LOVE LOVE JOY HEARTS HAPPINESS!!! Thank you for all of the reviews, and faves, and views and EVERYTHING!!!

Random Spanish Vocab:

Que lindo = how cute (the 'que' may need an accent, but if I remember my Spanish correctly, I think it doesn't...)


	6. Chapter 6

**Changement**

**Part 6**

"No. There is no way that I'm going to _him _for help! I'm too awesome to need help!"

"Ve~ but Prussia-nii…"

Germany could feel his migraine increasing by the moment. He really should start carrying a bottle of Advil with him at all times. Or at least all times that he spent with the Italian or his brother. Which would basically be all times. "Bruder…" He started.

They were putting on a rather interesting show for the neighbors if nothing else. As Prussia was currently digging his heels into the road, attempting to pull his arm out of the surprisingly strong grip of one very determined Italian. And said Italian was was almost leaning backwards in an attempt to tug the other nation up onto France's front stoop, while Germany just stood in the background and wondered why he'd even bothered to follow them.

"But, Prussia-nii!!" Italy grunted, as he attempted to pull the Prussian forward. "France-nii is good at this!! He can help you with Canada!"

Prussia shook his head firmly. "No. No way. I don't need help and I _don't _like Mattie in that way."

"What's this about mon petit Mathieu?"

The sudden voice was startling enough to make Prussia lose his traction on the ground, causing him to pitch forward toward the Italian, knocking both of them to the ground with a loud "Oof!"

Germany was at Italy's side in a matter of seconds after the impact, helping the smaller nation to his feet and looking him over for any injuries. Italy sniffled in pain, raising his elbow for Germany to see where he'd scraped it raw. "Ve~ Doitsu…I hurt my arm…"

Germany frowned, his expression rather worried, and then took the Italian's hand in his, leading him past France and into the house. "Where's your first aid kit?"

France grinned slightly, motioning toward the house's interior. "Right in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Italie can show it to you."

Germany nodded once before tugging the sniffling Italy after him. His expression similar to the sort he would hold right before marching into battle.

Prussia would have laughed at the expression if he weren't currently rubbing his head, which he'd managed to smack against the ground when he landed. Leave it to Westen to not even bother to make sure that his awesome brother was okay.

And then he suddenly realized that he'd been left behind with a now smirking France.

Shit…

"So, what is it that I heard you say about Mathieu?" He stepped down closer to where Prussia was still sitting on the pavement, hands on his hips as he stared down at the albino.

"I didn't say anything about Mattie." If in doubt, deny it.

"Really~?" He was still smiling, although now he was getting closer, kneeling down in front of the Prussian. "I thought for sure that I heard Italie mention that you needed advice from me on helping you with mon Mathieu."

"I don't like Mattie like that, damn it. I'm not going to be one of your little romance projects."

France loved messing with other people's love lives. He really did. It was just so entertaining and made his days more worthwhile.

And this wasn't a surprise at all, really. Those looks that his dear former colony had kept flashing Prussia throughout the fake date with England, the way Prussia had glanced back at him rather nervously. It was so obviously l'amour!

The only problem was the fact that this was _Prussia_. In love with _his _little Matthieu…

He liked Prussia, of course. He was a riot to go out and get drunk with and was usually the one to push them into performing their most stupid acts of chaos, most of which would usually land all three of them in jail for the night.

However, he didn't know how he felt about the idea of his sweet little ex-colony being romantically involved with someone like _Prussia_.

Prussia, who was still staring up at him curiously, obviously waiting for him to say something else.

France had to make a quick decision—he felt as if it would go completely against everything that he was made of if he denied two nations so obviously in love the opportunity to come together. And Prussia would never be able to figure out how to romance the younger nation without his help, since he didn't have a romantic bone in his body…

"Do not worry, mon cher Prusse," France finally exclaimed, roughly helping the other nation to his feet. "I am the master of l'amour and will be able to help you with anything that you need!"

Prussia was shocked into rare silence by that remark and then he flushed, attempting to drag the hand away that had been captured by his exuberant friend. "Fuck, I just said that I don't want to. I'm way too awesome for this."

France just smirked back and shook his head. "Ah, Prusse. Do not worry. After I am done with you, no one will ever be able to accuse you of being as unromantic as cher Angleterre."

"I don't want to be romantic! Being romantic is for pansies!" Prussia replied, irritably crossing his arms over his chest. France was reminded of America as a child, pouting when he didn't get his way.

Prussia and America really did have a lot in common. Maybe he should point that out to the American, just to see how angry he would get.

He shook that thought away. Non, non. He had something else…something much more important to worry about right now. "Ah, but Prusse…" he started, in the sweetest tone he could possibly use.

Prussia was mentally cursing Italy out. Or attempting to curse Italy out. He was having issues directing enough hatred toward the little Italian to really effectively do so, so he'd instead switched to cursing France inside his own mind. Which was really much easier.

"What?" he finally questioned, directing a rather irritated glare toward the other nation.

And suddenly said other nation was much _much _too close. And staring at him with an expression that sent shivers of terror down his back.

Not that he was afraid. The mighty Prussia was never afraid!

"Prusse, mon ami, just remember this. If you do _anything_ to hurt mon cher Mathieu…anything at all. If you make him cry or break his heart or hurt him in anyway…I will spend the rest of my life hunting you down. And then when I find you, I will torture you in the slowest, most painful way that I can possibly think of…and then I'll give you over to Russia and let him torture you in the slowest, most painful way that _he _can possibly think of."

And then he jumped back and flashed his now petrified friend a smile to rival one of Spain's… "Am I clear?"

"Ah…yes." His voice did not squeak…That would be completely unawesome to squeak.

Although, at least his threat hadn't been as bad as the one that Spain had sent his way that one day. When Prussia had been spending the day at his friend's house and had noticed a barely pubescent Romano reading a book under a tree outside while munching on a tomato. And he'd just made one tiny little joke about seizing some Southern Italian vital regions once he got a little older.

Prussia had never _ever _mentioned anything lewd about the boy ever again.

"Très bien!" France now grabbed his hand and began to drag him inside. "Then let's get to work!"

* * *

A/N: Scary, overprotective France is very terrifying. So is scary, overprotective Spain. Oh, Prussia, what are you getting yourself into?

So I'm hoping that is going to stop being stupid and will actually send out an alert this time, since I posted a new story yesterday and it never sent out the email (or at least, I didn't get the email) alerting people to it.

And I'm so excited at all of the people who joined the Hetalia Fanworks facebook group!! Apparently blatant self-advertising worked!! Invite all of your Hetalia buddies too :D Yay yay!!

Hearts and love for reviews!! ;3 I hope you continue to enjoy the chaos and torture that I'm putting these poor characters through.


	7. Chapter 7

**Changement**

**Part 7**

America would have physically patted himself on the back if it weren't for the fact that he was pretty sure England would yell at him if he tried it. And at the moment, he definitely didn't want to distract England in any way from what he was doing…

Really, England was such a romantic sap.

He hadn't realized just how _much _of a romantic sap, however…

People liked to think that America was an idiot. However, this was not entirely true, as he could, in fact, be quite devious when he really tried. And he was definitely trying. Which is why he had called the older nation a few days ago, inviting him over to his apartment for a movie night. Which England had agreed to, with the condition that he got to pick the movies.

America had given in, because—if everything went according to his plan—it wasn't like they'd be watching much of the movie anyway.

He'd immediately prepared everything for England's arrival, making himself some coffee and then putting a kettle of hot water on the stove to boil. Rented a few movies that he thought England would probably like—old, classical things that would usually put him to sleep within the first few minutes. And, of course, he'd made sure of a few other things that might be useful later. If things went according to plan.

It had worked out just as he'd thought. The tea and presence of movies that he would like had put England into a good mood and had even led to him curling up beside America on the sofa and resting his head on the other man's shoulder as he watched the movie with interest.

And he hadn't protested when America slipped his arm over his shoulder and tugged him closer.

Score. And he hadn't even finished phase one of his plan yet.

"Hey, Arthur?"

England glanced up; slightly surprised by the fact that America had actually used his human name instead of that weird nickname that he'd come up with after hearing Japan call him by his country name. "Yeah?"

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.  
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height  
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight  
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace."

For a few moments, England didn't respond besides his eyes widening slightly in surprise. Which sent America into a slight panic. Had he got it wrong? No, he'd spent all of last night memorizing that poem, making sure that every single word was perfect.

"Wha—what?"

America wasn't sure if he should try to apologize or whether he should keep going. Hey, might as well keep going. Since he'd spent all that time memorizing this damn thing.

"I love thee to the level of everyday's  
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.  
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;  
I love thee purely, as they…"

And suddenly he was cut off…Rather rudely…

Not that he was complaining. At all.

By a pair of lips that suddenly crushed against his, effectively cutting off his word. And then a pair of arms suddenly clenched around his neck and fingers tugged on his hair rather painfully. And then a body suddenly moved onto his lap, straddling him so that they were facing each other.

The only logical thought that America could form was that England was apparently trying to kiss him out of consciousness. And doing a pretty good job of it too…

Thank God for Google…

After a few more moments of breathless kissing, England finally moved away in order to give both of them the opportunity to breathe.

America was the first to speak. Of course. "W—wow…I wasn't expecting that…"

England flashed him a slight scowl, although one of his arms had moved from his neck and a set of thin fingers were already running down the other male's chest, sending excited chills down his spine. "Git…Where did you learn that?"

America chuckled, shrugging slightly. "Eh, you know…"

"You looked it up online, didn't you?"

Damn. America pouted at the fact that England had figured it out. He'd wanted to sound smart. Although at least he didn't look disappointed by the fact. More amused than anything else.

He chuckled, his gaze falling to where his fingers were dancing along the front of America's t-shirt, tracing along the letters of one of his smaller universities. Then he glanced up and kissed along his jaw line, amused by the fact that he could feel America shiver at each brush of his lips against skin. "Still, I'm impressed," he murmured, once he'd finished.

America grinned at the remark and slid his arms around the British man's waist, pulling him even closer, so their chests were brushing. "Does that mean I get a reward?"

England snorted, rolling his eyes. Way to kill the mood. "Don't push your luck."

"Aww~" America whined, pouting while widening his eyes in a way that he hoped was irresistible. "Just a little reward?"

England rolled his eyes again, but relented slightly by pressing their lips together.

Which America had been hoping for, as it gave him the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss and reverse their positions. So that England, after a few seconds of disorientation, suddenly realized that he was lying back on the sofa, America staring down at him like some giant cat about to pounce on some smaller, weaker animal.

"Alfr—" he started to protest in his most warning voice.

Which was cut off by an overly-exuberant American who had decided that he didn't really want to hear Iggy protesting something that he quite clearly wanted.

Besides, kissing England was so much more enjoyable than listening to him complain.

"Mm, so why don't we move this somewhere else?" America murmured after a few more seconds, his fingers already moving to tug off the sweater vest that England was currently wearing.

He was rather surprised to not receive any protests.

He was even more surprised when England assisted him by moving his arms upward so the American could tug the vest over his head.

And then…since karma hated him for some reason…they were suddenly interrupted.

By the door being thrown open…

To reveal a panting Canada, holding at least five huge shopping bags on each arm.

For a moment, the Canadian didn't even look inside the room that he'd just entered. Instead he just dropped all of the bags onto the floor and panted out, "A—Al…you wouldn't…be—believe…the elevator…was broken…so—so…I just walked up…twelve flights of stairs…" And then he took a good look at what he'd interrupted.

And turned a shade of red that had, until this point in time, never been achieved by either human or nation.

"Ah! Ah, I'm so sorry!" He immediately backed out of the room, hands held in front of his face protectively. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt! I was just going to ask Al—I should have knocked!"

Neither of the other nations had been able to react yet. Although finally America managed to regain his ability to speak. "Ah, Mattie! Umm…this isn't what you think…" Scratch that. This was exactly what he thought…

"No, no…" And he bent down to grab his bags, already halfway out of the room. "Ju—just go back to what you were doing, eh?" He laughed nervously, motioning toward them with a shaky hand. "Just forget I was ever here…" And then the door slammed shut and they heard his feet pounding in the opposite direction.

For a few moments, neither of the nations said anything. Both just staring at the door in shock and confusion.

And then America laughed, shaking his head slightly in amazement. Of course his brother would have God-awful timing like that…

Still, that little interruption didn't mean that they couldn't go back to what they were doi—

And then he suddenly felt a sharp elbow jab him right in the chest.

And he was rather forcibly introduced to his carpet.

"You—you bloody git!" And England was off of the sofa, his face flushing a shade that could almost rival Mattie's…

Ow… "Ah, Iggy, don't leave!" And he hurried after the nation, who'd stomped off toward the kitchen, probably to heat up another kettle of tea.

Damn it, now he'd have to start all over again. And he'd only memorized that one poem…

* * *

A/N: And there's your promised US/UK. ;D

The Cockblocking Club just keeps gaining new members. Poor Mattie.

Poem used is "How do I Love Thee?" by the British poet, Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Which is one of the poems that comes up if you Google "British love poems". I'm hoping that Google was actually right about the words. I don't have a poetry book here at the moment, so I couldn't really check it against a really reliable source. Sigh ;(

I feel like Iggy would be the type to totally be a sap over Romantic poetry. ;D


	8. Chapter 8

**Changement**

**Part 8**

Canada was never going to his brother's house again. At least not without calling ahead. Preferably multiple times.

If there was one thing that he had never wanted to walk in on, it was his brother and Arthur in any state of undress…about to…

Ah! He felt like he needed to go dunk his brain in a bucket of bleach in order to get rid of those images.

Besides, now America was going to be angry with him, which was definitely not what he'd wanted. Since he'd really wanted to ask him for help.

Spain's advice had definitely not been what he was expecting…

He was driving home now, after walking back down those twelve flights of stairs that he'd already walked _up _earlier, thinking back on that conversation. He'd been sitting on Spain's couch, watching him with rapt attention as the Spaniard had leaned back, his eyes flashing with amusement and mischief. "Well, if you want Gilbert to notice you in the romantic sense, Canadá, then you'll first have to make sure that the other nations notice you physically."

"Huh?"

"You can't really expect him to notice you if nobody else does?" He tilted his head slightly to the side and flashed the Canadian a reassuring smile. "We're having a meeting at the end of the week, anyway, so it'd be the perfect time to put our plan into motion."

"But Prussia doesn't come to the meetings…" Germany had quite forcefully requested that his brother stop attending the meetings awhile ago and, since Prussia found them boring anyway, he'd agreed without argument.

Spain shrugged. "I'll get him to come. He's pretty easy to manipulate if you know how to do it."

Canada had always thought of Spain as being the 'nice' one when it came to the trio, but he was starting to get the idea that this was not necessarily true. "The—then how do I make the other nations notice me? I'm always invisible during meetings." And now he stared down at his hands, feeling tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. No, he couldn't get upset. He was used to that...

"You've gotta stand up for yourself!" And now Spain was absolutely beaming, leaning forward as if in the middle of the most intense conversation of his life. "Don't let everybody walk all over you!"

Romano suddenly crossed back into the room, carrying a plate of biscotti, which he set on the coffee table between them before flopping down next to Spain, crossing his arms over his chest in his default expression of exasperated irritation. "You'd better not be telling him anything perverted, bastard."

Spain instantly smiled in response, attacking the smaller male with a hug. "Of course not, Lovi~ I'm giving him wonderful advice about Gil!"

"Get off me." He pushed the other away, grabbing one of the biscotti before flashing a suspicious glance toward the younger nation who was watching them as if trying to memorize their interactions.

"But, how do I do that?"

Spain didn't answer him. Instead, he just grinned and stood, saying something to Romano in either Italian or Spanish—Canada wasn't familiar enough with either to tell which it was—which Romano answered in the same language, his tone sounding rather suspicious. Leading to a back and forth for a few minutes that left Canada completely lost.

"I'll be back in a little bit," Spain told Canada once that conversation was finished. "I need to get a few things first. Lovi~ you be a good host, okay?"

"Just hurry up, bastard. You'd better not get distracted this time. And if you come back with another turtle, I swear I'm going to feed you to them."

"Aw, Lovi~" Spain whined back, but then he grinned and walked out, waving happily toward Canada. "You just wait here, Canadá. I won't be long."

"Eh? Wait, where are you—?" And he was already gone.

Leaving Canada alone with a scowling Romano.

Great.

They just sat there for a few minutes in awkward silence, Canada staring at the plate, unsure if he should risk taking one of the biscotti. He figured that the Italian wouldn't have put them there if he weren't allowed to take one.

But then again, he was kind of trying not to make any sudden movements right now, since he wasn't sure how Romano would react.

Romano had just started to open his mouth to speak, not really liking this awkward silence anymore than Canada did...when he was cut off by the shrill sound of the telephone.

They both jumped, startled by the noise. And then Romano cursed, glaring at the ringing object as if it were a demon sent straight from hell to torture him.

Which, with his experience, he would not be surprised at all to learn that that's exactly what it was. He still answered it, though, holding the receiver a few inches from his ear. "Yeah?"

"Nii-chan!!" The voice was loud enough for Canada to hear it easily from his spot. Which meant that it had almost caused Romano to go deaf. He visibly winced, moving the phone much farther away from his ear. "Nii-chan!! I fell down and hurt my arm!! Ve~ But Doitsu made it all better and then he went out and got me gelato!! Ve~ I love gelato." And Italy immediately started going off about gelato.

Romano was staring at the phone as if trying to decide whether it was worth throwing the object out of the nearest window.

"Ve~ Nii-chan? How's Spain-nii?"

"Fine, idiot," he snorted. "Look, I'm a little busy right now..."

"Ve~ are Spain-nii and nii-chan making babies? That's what France-nii said people are doing when they say they're busy. Are you going to have a baby, nii-chan? Ve~ I asked Doitsu if we could have a baby, but he said no. Which is sad because babies are so cute and soft and cuddly and—ve~ I think Doitsu's not feeling very well, he's turning a funny red colour. I should go and make sure that Doitsu's okay. Bye bye, nii-chan!"

Canada had slowly started to move away from the Italian during this mostly one-sided conversation, as he looked as if he was about to explode in a mixture of embarrassment and fury.

"Ah, I should probably go check on Kumarini."

And now he made a break for it, hurrying into the kitchen, where he found Kumajiro standing on his back legs, trying to reach the counter. As a plate of chocolate flakes was sitting just out of reach... He'd long ago given up on the tomato, as it had started to squirt out red stuff onto the floor when he pressed a little too hard...

Canada had just scooped his pet up, half-considering just leaving, when he was suddenly greeted by a barrage of incredibly colourful curses coming from the other room.

He'd then decided to just hide in there until Spain got back...And then he waited just a little longer until Romano finished screeching at the Spaniard in Italian before stomping upstairs.

Then Spain had walked into the kitchen, still smiling, as if he hadn't just gotten cursed out within an inch of his life for no apparent reason. His arms had been weighed down with at least ten shopping bags, five of which he'd immediately shoved into Canada's arms. "I think I went a little overboard, but they were so cute!!"

"What are they?" he started to open one, but was stopped before he could catch even a glimpse of what was inside.

"Don't look now. Wait 'til you get home! Just make sure you wear one to the next meeting." Spain instantly grinned and then glanced back toward the stairway that Romano had just stomped up. "Now, I'd better go make sure Lovi doesn't break anything. I'll see you at the meeting." And he'd skipped away, calling up to Romano in an overly-happy tone that was answered with more curses.

Canada had made his way home after that, deciding to stop at America's house first. Since if anyone knew about standing out at a meeting, it was his brother. Obviously, this had not worked out the way he'd planned...

And now he found himself in the driveway of his own house. Just a simple little cottage sort of affair. Without twelve flights of stairs... He'd never really thought about this little fact before today and now was feeling incredibly grateful for it. Then he'd made his way onto the front porch, letting himself in with a key. And immediately set upon one of the bags, curiousity finally overtaking him. What in the world had Spain bou—

And he'd almost immediately dropped the bag, spilling the contents over the floor. Horror immediately passing over his face as he jerked back as if he'd been burned.

"Wha—what?"

Kumajiro chose this moment to walk into the house, glancing up at his master, who was turning a nice red colour that was rather reminiscent of his flag.

"Who are you?"

* * *

A/N: Italy…I love you xD And I feel like Romano and Canada have at least one thing in common. Idiot siblings ;D They can bond over that.

Spain, you evil man, you ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Changement**

**Part 9**

"Westen!"

Germany had actually had a few minutes of peace and quiet. His brother had been somewhere outside of the house, Italy had gone home after that incredibly awkward phone conversation. Which meant that Germany could get back to work on the never-ending stacks of paperwork that absolutely covered his desk.

Or, he could try to get to work on them. He'd found himself oddly unable to get to work on them, as he kept expecting Prussia or Italy to suddenly burst into his room with some crisis. Like Italy crying that he couldn't open a jar of tomato sauce, or Prussia coming in to tell him that he'd pissed off Switzerland, who was now threatening to declare war on them.

So it was almost a relief to hear Prussia shouting from downstairs. It meant he would finally be aware of the current crisis and deal with it, instead of sitting here and conjecturing different scenarios in his mind.

"I'm in the office, bruder."

He could hear his brother stomping up the stairs, his combat boots thumping loudly against the wood, probably tracking mud throughout the house.

And then Prussia burst through the door, rushing over to Germany's desk and plopping himself down on the edge, completely disregarding the fact that he'd just knocked all of his brother's hard work onto the floor.

"Hey, Westen!"

Germany sighed in exasperation as he glanced down at his poor paperwork that he would probably never be able to get to…Unless he figured out some way to keep Prussia and Italy away from him for a week. Maybe if he sent them on a one-way trip to visit one of the other nations. Maybe Cuba. He lived on a little island far away from everybody else…

"Yes, bruder?"

"You're going to go on a date with me!"

For the sake of Germany's sanity, he was going to pretend that he hadn't just heard that. Yes, two tickets to Cuba. Or maybe Antarctica. There was less chance of anybody sending them back if he sent them there.

"Hey, Westen! Did you hear me? We need to go out on a date right now!"

Germany wondered how soon he could get those tickets. He could say that it was for an important diplomatic mission. To…strengthen relations with the world's penguin population?

"What are you talking about, bruder? I am not going on a date with you."

"Not a _date _date, Westen. I'd have to tell Feli if you cheated on him, even if it was with the awesome me. I just need you to go with me out to some restaurant and let me…um…brush up on my awesome dating skills. Not that they need brushing up, because the mighty Prussia doesn't need any assistance with dating, just 'cause I've been so busy being awesome that it's been a while since I went out with anyone."

Even after taking out all of the egoism, Germany still had no idea what Prussia was talking about. "What?"

Prussia looked slightly irritated now, which in and of itself was rather abnormal. "Come on, Westen. Just do it. France said that the only reason I wasn't asking Mattie out was because I was scared. Which isn't true at all, since there's no way the awesome Prussia would be scared of something stupid like that. But he said that the only way to prove that I'm not a pansy like Austria is to take him out _and _he said that in order to do that, I've got to work out on my fucking dating skills or something lame like that."

Ohh… It was romance again. Where was Italy when he needed him?

"Uh, so you just want someone to practice on?"

Prussia averted his gaze, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting in a way that vaguely reminded Germany of Romano when he was turning beet red in embarrassment.

He had to force down a shudder at that thought. He did _not _need his brother suddenly reminding him of the older Italian.

"No, I don't need practice. I just—eh—oh, fine—all right, I need practice. But not because I'm not awesome! It's just that I'm so awesome that I need to tune down my awesome so I don't over awe the poor kid." He immediately nodded at this, agreeing with his own words.

Maybe he'd just send himself to Cuba. Sun, sand, and surf. That sounded incredibly relaxing. Send himself to Cuba and his brother and Italy down to make friends with penguins.

"Why me? You could ask somebody else…" who actually knows how to deal with emotions and romance and all of that messy stuff.

"Because nobody else can find out about this! They'll think that I look like a pansy!" He suddenly attached to Germany's arm, widening his eyes and sticking his lower lip out in a pout.

Germany could not deal with this right now.

"What exactly is this date going to consist of?"

"I'll just take you out to dinner and movie. France said that Canada likes simple things like that and it won't be awkward or anything."

"And when are you planning on asking Canada out?"

"Right after the next meeting! I'll send him a message while he's at the meeting and then meet him outside and he'll be totally shocked and awestruck by my awesome!" And now his eyes were gleaming in an excitement that Germany hadn't seen in quite some time.

It…Well…it couldn't hurt. It wasn't like he was actually going on a date with his brother (because that would be awkward as hell). And he really did want to help Prussia if it _was _true that he was in love with Canada, as Italy seemed to believe.

"All right, all right. But I'm not doing anything like this for you ever again."

"Yay!" And now Prussia attacked him with a hug.

From on top of the desk.

Not paying too much attention to the fact that Germany was not sitting in the sturdiest chair ever invented.

Which meant that they both toppled over at the sudden motion, Germany smacking his head against the window as Prussia fell on top of him.

Yes, he was definitely resigning as a nation and sending himself on a one-way trip to Cuba. It was the only thing he could do to keep his sanity.

* * *

A/N: Poor Germany. He can't win.

And…YES PENGUINS!!!! I HAVE INCORPORATED PENGUINS INTO THIS SERIES!!! (Authoress has slight penguin obsession… *cuddles penguin plushy to chest, while wearing penguin pajamas and penguin slippers…while wrapped in a penguin blanky…overtop penguin bedsheets…*)

Wow, so I totally find it hilarious that I wasn't even consciously creating a cliff-hanger for the last chapter and yet it ended up being a rather evil one. xD It's instinctual for me to be cruel to my characters/readers, I guess.


	10. Chapter 10

**Changement**

**Part 10**

Okay, everything was going great. Nothing was going to mess this up.

"So, Iggy, what do you think?"

England was staring across the table at his date, a faint smile sliding over his lips as he took careful note of the suit and tie that America had donned for this occasion. He looked absolutely amazing in it…

_Really _amazing…

Amazing enough that he wanted to grab onto that tie and drag his head across the table in order to kiss him senseless.

"It's nice," he reluctantly admitted, crossing his arms across his chest as he turned away, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. Damn, it was better than nice. This was one of the sweetest things that America had ever done for him. And he was wearing a suit, which just made things better… "I didn't know you owned a suit."

"My boss makes me wear one to some of the White House parties and other stuff like that." He'd much rather wear his bomber jacket, but he supposed it could be useful to own a suit when you were attempting to impress your lover.

After his brother had interrupted his plan a few days ago and England had refused to continue where they'd left off, he'd immediately started coming up with another plan for Operation: Seduce England.

This one was relatively simple. Take England out to a fancy restaurant for romantic dinner, then go for a pleasant, romantic stroll through the park while doing coupley things like holding hands, kissing under the streetlights, and then they would finally make their way back to the apartment, where—if everything had gone well—they'd spend the rest of the night together in bed.

"So, what's the occasion?" England questioned, as he took a sip of his champagne.

"Occasion? I'm not allowed to take my Iggy out without having to have some ulterior motive?"

England immediately flashed him a suspicious look, one of his eyebrows rising in disbelief. "Now I know you're up to something. What do you want?"

You. Preferably lying on top of my sheets, completely exposed, panting my name… America hurriedly took a sip of his own champagne, giving himself a moment to compose himself before answering, "Nothing. I just thought you might like something different for a change."

England still looked rather suspicious, but he seemed to decide to let it go for now. Which was good for America, as he hadn't really thought up a good story about why he'd suddenly decided to take England out for a nice meal.

"So, how's work been?" America questioned, grasping at something that would distract England from the reasoning behind his actions. He leaned back in his seat, glancing around at his surroundings as he did so, noting the nice décor surrounding them.

They'd been given the nicest table in the building, a mostly private area where they could see out, but most people couldn't see in. It was one of the good things about being a nation; you got all of these vague identification badges that basically said 'I am a very important person with a very important job and you must treat me ridiculously well because of it'. He didn't like to use his special privileges very often, but VIP status could be useful sometimes.

He vaguely listened as England settled into a long-winded description of what his government was working on now, France's latest policy of annoying him by sending hundreds of roses to his office every single day, his latest trade agreement with Japan…

America didn't catch very much of it, as he was more distracted by the tone of England's voice and the way that his lips moved he talked…

Ah, he couldn't wait until they got back to his apartment! Damn it, he just wanted to leave right now—who cared if they hadn't gotten their food yet? Unfortunately, he was pretty sure that doing so would ruin all of his hard work in getting England into an exceptionally good mood.

Which meant he'd have to sit here for the rest of the dinner, conversing, and pretending that he wasn't fantasizing about what would happen once they got back to the apartment…

"Hey, wait… Alfred, look over there!"

America immediately returned all of his mental faculties back to the present and noticed England staring in surprise at something over his shoulder.

He frowned and turned around, then gaped in amazement at the sight.

Prussia and Germany were sitting at a table nearby.

That, of course, wasn't what had amazed him. It wasn't entirely uncommon for them to run into some of the other nations when they were in the same country, preparing for a meeting, What shocked him was the fact that they were _holding hands_ on top of the table.

Let's say that again. Prussia and Germany were holding hands on top of a table.

This was officially the biggest 'what the fuck?' moment he'd ever had. Which is why his first response was a "What the _fuck_?"

Germany looked as if the action were causing him actual, physical pain, while Prussia's expression was more like someone who was thinking really hard about what he was doing.

"What the fuck?" America figured the sentiment bore repeating. "Are Prussia and Germany on a date with each other?"

Ew. Double Ew. _Triple_ Ew.

"Shut up, Alfred, I can't hear what they're saying," England hissed irritably, as he started to slowly sink lower in his chair.

"Hey, what are you doi—?" America's question was effectively cut off when England suddenly, in one quick motion, slid entirely under the table and moved up between his legs to clap his hand over the younger male's mouth. "I said shut up!"

America had no idea what had just happened. But England's position was definitely one that he hadn't been expecting. He was about to do something—even he wasn't sure what, but England moved before he could manage it, sliding back under the tablecloth.

Damn. Under the table. Why didn't he think of that earlier?

He slid under to join him, receiving an irritated glare from his irritated lover. "Fine, just keep quiet, git," England hissed. "I don't want to get caught because you couldn't spy to save your life." And now he suddenly was gone again. America hurriedly stuck his head out from under the tablecloth to follow him, but paused to just watch as England moved from table to table, managing not to knock against any knees and dodge the waiters bringing trays of food.

Wow. He was impressed. England actually was a good spy.

But he was the hero, so he would be better.

With that thought, America attempted to follow.

He was not as successful.

He eventually managed to make his way to the table England was hiding under, which was right beside the one Prussia and Germany were sitting at. However, in the process, he'd managed to knock out three waiters, cause four fights between people who were now yelling at their table mates for thinking they could touch them under the table, and knocked at least five plates of food off tables when he moved his head just a little too high and knocked it on the underside of the table above him.

Still, he'd managed to keep from getting caught. England was now flashing him a look that plainly read 'you're an idiotic, pathetic git', but he'd made it.

Spying was sneaky anyway. True heroes didn't sneak if they could help it.

Still, he decided to ignore the look in favour of eavesdropping on Prussia and Germany's conversation.

"You're almost as awesome as me…"

"Bruder, can't you give a compliment that isn't also complimenting yourself?" Germany sounded like he was starting to get very exasperated.

Prussia immediately pouted like a child that hadn't gotten his way. "But I'm the most awesome thing in the entire universe, so telling him that he's almost as awesome as me is the best compliment he can get."

Germany had secretly brought his infamous self-help book, which had been utterly useless in dealing with Italy, but might prove helpful for a Canadian lover… And was now flipping the pages underneath the edge of the table. "Why don't you tell him that he looks nice? 'Make sure to compliment your lover on anything new that he or she has gotten. This includes haircuts, new shoes, new hairstyle, new clothing, etc.'"

Prussia flashed his brother a look of pure exasperation. "Westen, you're reading that from a book."

Germany flushed slightly. "It can't hurt to try."

"How the hell do you have a boyfriend? It doesn't matter anyway. I definitely don't need a fucking book to tell me how to date Mattie."

The response to that statement was immediate. There was suddenly a loud shriek that sounded like someone yelling the word "What?!" at the top of their lungs. Which was also coupled with the sound of plates of food falling off of a table that had suddenly been lifted into the air when an American suddenly sat up without thinking of where he was. And the people who'd been eating at said table were shrieking and so were various other people around the restaurant…

There was enough chaos that no one noticed a Brit dragging the American under one of the other tables. Not even Prussia or Germany, who were now staring at the sight in shock.

"What the fuck was that?"

Germany blinked in confusion and shook his head. "I have no idea…"

Said Brit also happened to now being chewing the American out, as well.

And the only thoughts going through the head of the American were: 1) He didn't really say Mattie, did he? Not my little brother Mattie? No way, there is _no _way that Prussia and my brother are going out.

And 2) Damn, I bet you anything that the rest of Operation: Seduce Iggy is off now, since he's pissed again.

Damn Prussia.

* * *

A/N: As soon as you thought that nothing was going to mess up your date, you were doomed, America-chan. Poor poor America.

Haha, and for those who are asking about when Prussia and Canada will meet…don't worry, it will happen relatively soon. ;D We've just gotta set up the insanity to come first. ;D Since I've gotten multiple questions about that.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Um, so I did something really different with this chapter… And it's really long. Ummm, so I really hope you don't hate it. It just really wanted to be written and…yes… *goes to hide in emo corner*

* * *

**Changement**

**Part 11**

Speaking with the personification of your country was always a very disconcerting experience for a human. Particularly when said nation had a bad habit of appearing in your office without any sort of warning.

Alcide Trovato really should have gotten used to this habit by now; he'd been dealing with Romano for almost five years now. The nation seemed to have a second sense about this sort of thing, though. Alcide would be staring out of the window of his office, thinking about something mundane, when he'd suddenly feel a hand on his wrist and a voice whisper in his ear, "Buon Giorno, Signor Trovato."

As had happened just a few seconds ago.

He'd jumped in surprise, immediately jerking back in his seat as he stared up at the male who had seated himself on the edge of his desk and was now playing with his letter opener.

"Damn it, Romano," he swore.

He occasionally wondered why in the world he'd been given this job. He'd just been a normal fellow when he'd been approached with what had seemed at the time like a wonderful proposition. He'd always had a hard time holding down a job; he'd been working at a flower shop at the time, attempting to make enough money to support himself, his wife, and their daughter on the way… And then his brother had told him of this amazing job that didn't require any special skills…Just a lot of patience.

He hadn't been overly thrilled about the idea of working with the mafia, but he'd been told that he wouldn't have to kill anybody or even get directly involved in anything really illegal. And he'd been desperate at the time, so…

Sometimes, he really wished he'd turned that offer down…

"I need you to do something for me," Romano remarked, flashing the man a bored look that plainly read that he didn't really want to be dealing with him right now.

What a surprise.

Alcide could remember the day that he'd received this job as clearly as he could remember anything else in his life. Clearer than most. Every moment was engraved deeply into his memory, no matter how much he wished that he could forget all about this mess.

He'd been led into the room by his brother and a few other members that he'd forgotten the names of; he figured it was probably safer that way.

And had immediately been greeted by a scowling, well-dressed brunette with the oddest hair curl he'd ever seen sticking out from the right side of his head. Seriously, the thing was defying all laws of gravity…

He looked relatively young, only in his twenties or so, although it was rather hard to tell since he was scowling so furiously at everybody in sight.

Which, Alcide had realized once his eyes moved from the odd person seated in the exact center of the room, included the boss. The _capofamiglia_.

He was shocked. What was _he_—not even a soldier yet—doing meeting the boss of their family?

"Ah, Signor Trovato," the man that Alcide recognized as the underboss, Nicolo Ricci greeted him. "I would like you to meet Don Lovino Vargas."

"It's Romano to you bastards," the irritated man immediately interrupted, flashing each of them a glare that should have caused everyone in the vicinity to spontaneously combust. Alcide found himself taking a quick step backwards in an attempt to distance himself from the man.

This turned out to be a futile attempt, as Nicolo just flashed the male an exasperated look before motioning toward him while looking at Alcide. "Also known as Italia Meridionale."

And that was how he'd found out about the nations. And also simultaneously found out that his new job was to be the go-between the human personification of half of their nation and the capofamiglia.

And if the nation wanted anything done that didn't require the attention of the boss, then he was to do it. No matter what…

"What do you want, Romano?" he sighed, as he rested his elbow on the desk and stared up at the brunette who was glaring down at him from his perch on top of the papers that he was supposed to be signing right now.

"I want you to call Germania for me and pretend to be his boss. You're good at disguising your voice and doing accents, after all."

Alcide was about to ask how he knew that, then realized that that would be a rather stupid question. Romano probably knew more about him than he knew about himself. "And what am I supposed to say to Germania?"

"Tell him that the presence of Prussia is absolutely necessary at the next nation meeting. And make sure that he doesn't get the chance to say no. Here…" He shoved a sheet of paper in his face. "Here's how you say it in German. Don't fuck this up."

Alcide had been dealing with Romano for long enough to know that asking Romano for an explanation of his actions would just end up with him getting screamed at. So he just repeated the words on the page out loud, now thankful for those few months studying in Germany so he at least knew how they were supposed to sound… He doubted that Romano would be patient enough to teach him the correct pronunciation.

He did make him repeat it until he thought it sounded perfect and then relaxed as Alcide picked up the phone and dialed the number, after glancing at the pad of paper that held the home phone numbers of practically every nation in the world, organized by how often Romano actually called them. Germany was pretty close to the top, actually. Interesting, since the other nation hated him so much.

Actually, not so surprising. He wouldn't put it past Romano to be the type of person to prank call people that he didn't like.

He switched the phone to speaker so Romano could hear, lowering his voice to a pitch that he knew sounded at least similar to that of Germany's current boss. It was a good thing that he watched basically everything that he could find about other country's political affairs, so he knew what he sounded like. Not that he really wanted to watch all of those political reports, but it was generally a good idea to keep up to date on those matters when you were dealing with the nations.

If only to know who was pissed off at whom.

"Hallo?"

"Deutschland, I need you to bring Preußen to the next meeting. It's incredibly urgent."

Germany sounded understandably confused. "Was? You want Osten at the meeting? Why? You know what happened last time he came to a meeting. I think that parts of the ceiling in that room are still pink."

"It's incredibly urgent." He repeated, wishing that Romano had given him more lines to say. The nation was motioning for him to hang up, which he did after another "It's urgent" and then a "Goodbye" that he hoped actually meant goodbye and wasn't some random word that he'd drudged up from his distant memory.

Romano nodded in satisfaction once he'd finished, although he remarked, "Your accent was off, bastardo, but I doubt that he'd notice."

That was about as close to a 'good job' as you'd ever receive from Romano.

"So, not that it matters, but is there a specific reason that you want Prussia at your meeting?"

"'Cause he needs to be there to see something. It's not like it was my idea or anything. It was that idiot Spagna's fau…"

"Lovi~!" And suddenly the figure that had been perching on his desk was now being attacked by a dark-haired figure that had burst into the room without any warning.

Alcide started to move from his seat in automatic response, and then realized that the newcomer wasn't actually trying to hurt the other male but was instead…um…hugging him…or something like that…

Was he suicidal or something?

"Get off of me, you bastard!!" Romano screeched in fury. "I told you to stay in the car while I did this!!"

"But I was lonely, Lovi~! And I wanted to see what you were doing." He now suddenly seemed to notice the other occupant of the room and immediately released Romano rather suddenly, almost causing him to fall off the desk, and skipped over to the other man. "Hola, Señor! You must be Señor Travato! Soy España!"

"Idiot! You don't just say that to any human who comes along!" Romano exclaimed, smacking him upside the head.

Alcide blinked in surprise. Well…he'd never actually met any of the other nations. Although he'd heard a lot about them from Romano when he was in the mood to complain, which was often. He'd definitely heard about Spain before…

"You're Spagna?" he questioned. Why had he gotten the cranky nation? He'd much rather have to deal with someone like this.

"Sí!" And suddenly he was shocked when the nation in question attacked _him _with a hug that almost crushed the air out of his lungs. "It's so nice to meet you! Lovi told me all about you! He said you were part of the evil muffins! But you don't seem evil at all!"

"Spagna!!" And the overly-exuberant nation was suddenly dragged away before Alcide had any time to react to the random display of affection.

"Ah, Lovi~ I didn't get to ask him anything!" He was actually being forcibly dragged by the other man out of the room, Romano flashing a look back at him that quite plainly read 'tell anyone about this and you're dead'.

Alcide didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

A/N: I'm sooooo sorry for all of the random exposition, but…I really really wanted to write this. And I love Romano dealing with the mafia... *munches on chocolate Easter eggs in her emo corner* Is it bad that I really like Alcide? Even if he is an OC and part of the mafia. I think that he was given the job to deal with Romano just because he's not really evil enough to make a good mafia member.

And I don't really feel like explaining all where I came up with this idea of having an intercessor between the mafia and Lovi. Basically, Lovi and the mafia just have to live with each other even though they'd much rather not… So in order to keep interaction down between them, the mafia came up with the idea of having a go-between who can deal with Lovi unless it's about something really important.

And just to make it clear about the languages…The whole conversation between Romano and Alcide was taking place in Italian, the one between Alcide and Germany was in German, and then Spain comes in and is talking in Italian with some random Spanish thrown in just because he's excited while Romano and Alcide are both speaking Italian back at him. I figure that since the countries have been around for centuries and centuries, they'd be pretty multilingual.

And the next chapter should be the meeting. (Should, no promises though, since it isn't written yet)

Random Vocab: (There's a lot, so it's quite likely that I got something wrong)  
Buon Giorno - Good Day (I)  
Signor - Mister (I)  
Capofamiglia - Mafia Boss, head of the family (I)  
Don - honorific of respect, used for high-ranking members of the mafia (I)  
Italia Meridionale - South Italy (I)  
Germania - Germany (I)  
Hallo - Hello (G)  
Deutschland - Germany (G)  
Preußen - Prussia (G)  
Was - What? (G)  
Osten - East (G)  
Spagna - Spain (I) -- Okay, so just to go with this one, I've noticed that like...everybody is suddenly using this now and nobody did before I did... Does that mean I created fanon? That would be so epic if I did xD  
Soy España - I'm Spain (S)


	12. Chapter 12

**Changement**

**Part 12**

The nations were all incredibly confused.

Not that this was entirely a new situation. Things tended to happen here which could not be explained through any logical terms. For example, there had been the time when Japan had run into the meeting room late, apologizing about how he'd been at an anime convention and had lost track of time. Which wasn't entirely out of the ordinary. The fact that he was wearing a pink and white school girl's uniform complete with glasses and long-haired pink wig was.

Or there was the time when they'd been in the middle of a meeting and a random disco ball suddenly dropped out of the ceiling. And ABBA started blasting from the speakers.

Or there was the pink incident, but they preferred not to talk about that one.

Let's just say that Poland and Prussia had been the only ones pleased when that happened.

Anyway, so they were confused. Confused, perplexed, and just generally wondering what the hell was going on.

Because Germany was late.

Now, if it was anyone else, nobody would be concerned. Even England, who was almost as anal about getting to meetings on time as Germany was, had been late a couple of times. Usually when he'd spent the night before getting wasted and had woken up with a monster hangover.

But Germany was never late.

The world could be ending and Germany would still be here, exactly seven minutes early, sitting in his seat and waiting for everyone else to straggle in.

To say that the rest of the nations were slightly nervous would be a massive understatement.

"Ve~ where's Doitsu?" Of course Italy was the first one to actually say what was on everyone else's mind. He kept glancing toward the empty chair beside his, as if expecting Germany to suddenly materialize out of nowhere. He looked uncharacteristically saddened by the fact that he didn't; even his curl was drooping in depression as he searched everyone else's expressions, hoping that one of them might be able to answer him.

"This is very strange," Japan finally added, joining Italy in glancing around the table in hope of receiving any sort of explanation from someone else. "Do you know where he is, Austria-san?" he questioned. "You live right near him…"

Austria pushed his glasses up slightly as he leaned on the table, his own expression extremely confused. "No, he never mentioned to me that he would be late to this meeting."

"What do you think, America-san?" Japan questioned, turning to their self-proclaimed leader for any advice on how they should react to this odd absence.

He, however, hadn't even been paying any attention to Germany's strange disappearance and was instead staring at the other empty seat at the table, right between France and England. He was a little surprised to have never noticed it before. You'd think that Canada would have gotten punched or kicked or otherwise beaten up one of these times if he was sitting right between those two.

"Mattie isn't here either!"

The rest of the nations chorused together almost simultaneously "Who?"

"Canada! My brother!" America exclaimed, pointing toward the empty seat—conveniently ignoring the fact that he usually forgot about his brother too. France and England both turned to stare at the seat as if they'd never noticed it before. Which they hadn't.

Japan wasn't really enjoying the fact that he was apparently the new leader, since Germany wasn't here and America seemed to be too distracted to take charge for whatever reason. Still, something needed to get done.

"Um, should we go look for them?" he questioned after a moment, turning toward England in hope that he would pity him and take over.

England, however, was too busy attempting to figure out when this random chair had suddenly appeared to notice the rather desperate expression. Maybe it was cursed… Maybe it could be used to replace Busby's Chair, which was definitely looking the worse for wear after its encounters with Russia.

Spain suddenly spoke up, as he leaned forward on the table and grinned disarmingly toward Japan. "I don't think so. I'm sure they'll show up soon, after all. Who knows? Maybe there was bad traffic and they're both stuck in it."

The other nations thought about that. It would explain why both of them were late. Although traffic had been fine for all of them… However, it was definitely possible. There was another chorus of agreements to this.

"I think we should go on a search and rescue mission for Mattie," America interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest and sending everyone else a rather bad-tempered scowl that surprised most of them into silence.

"Al, don't be a git," England replied, finally turning his attention from the chair, making a mental note to check on it later to see if it had any magical properties besides the ability to disappear.

America opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by the sudden sound of the meeting door being thrown open and banging against the wall behind it… And a much too familiar voice suddenly shouted out "Do not fear! The awesomeness has arrived!!"

Immediately every single eye turned toward the door, shock passing over each of their expressions as they stared at the latecomers.

Germany was standing in the hallway, looking absolutely miserable, his hair mussed, his eyes bloodshot, his outfit looking as if he'd just thrown it on haphazardly. And in front of him was, of course, Prussia.

Who looked like his normal self, albeit even more excited and energized than usual. He immediately walked in, slamming the door right in his brother's face, before proceeding to greet almost every single country sitting around the table (except Russia and a now homicidal-appearing America).

"Hey, Feli!" he exclaimed, dropping down in the spot beside Italy usually reserved for Germany, leaning over to ruffle the younger nation's hair. "How's my favourite little Italian doing?" He flashed a wide grin at Romano, who just rolled his eyes in response.

"Ve~ why is Prussia-nii here?" Italy asked, incredibly confused. And poor Doitsu had looked so awful. "What's wrong with Doitsu?"

Said 'Doitsu' suddenly appeared behind his brother and proceeded to grab his chair and lift it up, sending Prussia falling straight to the floor. Germany sighed in exasperation, taking his seat and rubbing at his forehead in an attempt to ward off the migraine that had been plaguing him since his boss's phone call. "My boss called me last night and told me that I needed to bring bruder with me."

"I knew that he'd eventually see that I was too awesome to leave out!" Prussia exclaimed from the floor, proceeding to jump up as if he hadn't just been dumped from his stolen chair by his brother.

Germany groaned as his head dropped onto the table. Italy started to rub at his back in a soothing fashion. "And he would not go to sleep last night. He kept bursting into my room and playing the electric guitar in the living room and playing his video games at full volume… I only got about five minutes of sleep the entire night…"

"The awesome Prussia is too awesome to sleep!!" Prussia replied.

"And then I was so exhausted this morning that I didn't dare attempt to drive myself…"

"So the awesome me did it!!"

"Ve~ poor Doitsu is sleepy," Italy cooed, wrapping his arms around the much bigger man. Most of the other nations were eyeing Prussia, trying to imagine what it would be like to be in a car being driven by the albino.

It was a terrifying concept.

"Hey, where's Mattie?" Prussia suddenly questioned in the next minute, eyes passing over the room's occupants and finding one person missing.

Japan was about to open his mouth to reply when the doors were again thrown open. The poor wall behind them was going to be covered in dents by the end of the day.

"Hey, sorry I'm late, everybody!"

Immediately every single eye in the room widened and every jaw dropped in shock. If you excluded Spain, who just looked pleased with himself, and Romano, who was flashing Spain a dirty look.

America looked particularly horrified. "Mattie! What are you wearing?!"

While Prussia was speechless.

Probably for the first time in his entire existence.

* * *

A/N: Mwahaha, another evil cliffhanger of DOOM!

Okay, so just to tell you guys, so I enjoyed writing the last chapter so much that I've decided that probably my next story once The Talk is done is going to be a mafia!Romano adventure fic... With Alcide and various other mafia people in it. Since apparently (at least the people who reviewed) seemed to like him.

Just as a little bonus…who can guess who Kiku was cosplaying as in the second paragraph?

All right now, so let's prepare for an epically long note of epic longness.

Ok, so after reading a review from one of you darlings telling me that you've been printing out my stories, I realized that I haven't actually printed any of mine out yet (due to the fact that I haven't had a printer for almost a whole year *cries*) so I decided that this summer, my goal is to go through all of my fanfics, edit them (*cries* I hate editing), print them out, and put them into special binders so I have them all nice and prettily in one place.

So, what this has to do with you… I thought that I'd just put this out there in case anyone was interested. If anyone would like to draw anything for me to include in the binding, that would be really cool. What would be nice would be covers for any stories, insert art for any specific chapter for any story, or other things like that. I won't even be getting back to printer civilization until after May 5th, so it wouldn't need to be done anytime soon… Knowing how slow I am at editing, it probably won't even be til like June that I can actually start working on the binding… (Gah, I hate editing…especially language editing…If anybody wants to help me with that, either, I wouldn't be adverse to assistance there…)

Okay, so yeah. Just thought I'd put that out there :) Anyway, if people actually _are _interested, I figure that I'll put up the info on my profile about which stories are covered/which ones are open. Any story (including oneshots), one for the whole TMAMT series, and one for all the gen!flipped universe stories (now I really need a title) would be available to be drawn/designed. Please message me if you're interested and I can give more specific details about what info I'd want on them (titles, series name, etc. Pictures are up to the artist.)

I'd particularly love it if people would cover (haha pun) the non-TMAMT ones, since it's hard to find pictures of especially the gen!flipped couples, so I'm not able to do much myself with those. Insert art for the TMAMT ones would be really awesome, just the covers I'll probably do myself since I love designing covers ;D


	13. Chapter 13

**Changement**

**Part 13**

"This is ridiculous, Kumaminji." Canada was currently dealing with that marvelous phenomenon that had a tendency to ruin even the best-planned weddings. Cold feet.

He was currently waiting outside of the meeting room, hiding in the doorway of an empty room that allowed him a good view of everyone who went in and out. And he'd been keeping very careful tabs of who went in and out, hoping desperately that Spain was right about Prussia. It would be really embarrassing if Prussia didn't show after he'd done all of this work.

Right now he was rather worried that that was exactly what was going to happen. Since Prussia hadn't shown yet. Although neither had Germany, which was weird.

Kumajiro was rather confused—not that this was at all strange. Usually when they came to this building, they'd go to a room filled with all sorts of noisy people. And now he and this strange man were just standing in an empty room and staring out of the doorway at a hallway.

And then suddenly the strange man jerked backwards, making a high-pitched squeaking sound as footsteps pounded down the hallway toward the meeting room. Footsteps which were coupled with the doors being thrown open and then a voice that sent thrills down his spine. "Do not fear! The awesomeness has arrived!!" (And why did that voice send shivers down his spine? Really?)

He peeked his head out again, just in time to see the door close behind Germany's back and catch a glimpse of that silvery-coloured hair.

Ah, his heart was absolutely racing.

He could do this. He could do this…

A few minutes later, he was still standing in the doorway, head resting against the wall as he laughed softly in a tone that hinted that he was only a few minutes away from breaking down in tears. He couldn't do this…

Kumajiro stared up at the stranger above him and then started to paw at his pants, which made rather interesting noises when he did so. He was distracted from whatever his goal was by this fact…

Canada's attention, however, was caught by the action and he opened his eyes, staring down at his bear. And then he really laughed, standing straighter. "You're right. I've already done this much. I'll just keep regretting it if I don't at least finish what I've started. Being eternally ridiculed can't be much worse than feeling like a coward."

Kumajiro was pretty sure he hadn't said anything about that. But then he was distracted again by the noise when Canada started to walk away, shoulders thrown back as he attempted to push enough air into his lungs to make sure he made an entrance that would be sure to get him noticed.

"Here goes nothing," he sighed to himself, and then pushed the doors open with as much force as he could muster. Which actually surprised him, as the action caused one of the doors to slam into the wall and then bounce back.

And immediately a few hundred eyes were on him…

Including a pair of ruby-red ones that instantly widened in shock.

"Hey, sorry I'm late, everybody!" he called in his loudest voice. Which was at the volume level of most people's speaking voices. Still louder than he'd ever spoken before—and the room was so silent that he probably could have whispered and everybody would have been able to hear him perfectly.

"Mattie! What are you wearing?!" His brother finally exclaimed, the first person in the room to actually speak.

He glanced down at himself and then looked back at his brother. "Clothes?"

He'd never actually had all of the nations' attention on him before. It was a rather disconcerting experience. How in the world could his brother deal with it all the time? He almost wanted to sink into the floor.

Still, he'd very carefully schooled himself in exactly what he'd do.

Which, in simplest terms, was this…

Act confident. Just like Prussia and America.

Well, maybe not _just _like, but similarly at least.

"Sorry I'm late," he repeated again, moving over to his seat and sliding into place, noticing how everybody's eyes had followed him as he sat down. Remember what Spain's note had said, he reminded himself before he could sink down in an attempt to disappear. Act like Prussia. Act like this is completely normal.

He leaned forward, elbows on the table, noticing that both England and France were staring at him with almost matching, completely shocked expressions.

And then Italy managed to break the tension in the room by tugging on Germany's collar and questioning, "Ve~ Doitsu, how come we don't play dress-up anymore?"

That effectively broke the silence that had descended on the room, as Romano screeched in fury and threw himself at the still-suffering German, hitting him while screaming in Italian at an unintelligible pace.

"Ve~ nii-chan! Don't hurt Doitsu! He's still sleepy!"

America was immediately at his brother's side, tugging him to his feet. "What are you wearing?" He repeated again, motioning toward Canada's outfit. "You look…You look…"

"Totally awesome!" Prussia interrupted.

To say that America was not happy about that remark would be a severe understatement. He was irritated, confused, and that damned Prussia was now trying to sidle up to his little brother!

His little brother, who for some weird reason, was dressed almost like a biker…

He was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans—very skinny jeans—from which hung at least ten different silver and gold chains of varying lengths, some of which reached almost all the way down to his knees. Then, on top, he was wearing a black t-shirt with a red pentacle design, over which he wore a black leather jacket decorated with silver rings and studs…and around his neck were even more chains of various thicknesses and lengths. And his hair was pulled back in a ponytail, tied with a red strip of cloth, a pair of sunglasses over his eyes instead of his usual glasses.

The most shocking part, though, were his ears. Both of which were absolutely _covered _in piercings. At least seven in each ear…

"Ah, Angleterre. This brings back such fond memories. Remember when you came to that meeting after you got your lip pierced?" England looked rather unsure of how to answer that. He had rather pleasant memories of the punk wave, but he wasn't sure how he felt about one of his former-colonies wearing something like that.

France, on the other hand, had apparently gotten over most of his shock and stood up, tugging at one of the earrings, making Canada wince. "Are these real, mon cher?"

"Ow! Non!"

"Why are you wearing that?" America was definitely not pleased. Had Prussia put him up to this or something? Why else would his brother suddenly be wearing something this ridi—

And then suddenly the rest of the nations seemed to jerk out of their daze.

"Canada-san, may I take some pictures of you?"

"Those piercings look like they would hurt, da?"

"Piercings originated in Korea!"

Italy wasn't really paying attention; he was too busy poking a passed out Germany. "Ve~ Doitsu? Doitsu? Did you fall asleep, Doitsu?"

"Hey, why don't you come out clubbing with us sometime?" And now Denmark was at Canada's side, an arm thrown comradely around his shoulder.

Now America was flashing multiple people dirty looks.

Nobody really noticed as Spain made his way over, beaming in his usual happy way, a hint of something a little more malicious flashing through his green eyes as he leaned over Canada's shoulder and whispered in his ear, "See? I told you the rest of the world would recognize you if you did something to stand out."

And then he was gone heading over to stop Romano from drawing on the sleeping Germany's face with a permanent marker that he'd found somewhere.

Leaving Canada adrift in a sea of unfamiliar recognition.

* * *

A/N: Well, there you go. Canada's outfit. I feel like it wasn't as awesome as some people were thinking, but… I like it. Lolz. xD

And for everyone who guessed on Japan's cosplay. Woohoo!! Lots of you got it!! Takara Miyuki from Lucky Star!! Don't ask me why he was cosplaying as a girl… ;D

As a random trivia fact, I spent basically the entire time writing this chapter listening to "Mein Gott". Oh Prussia. Until the end…when I switched to "Cell Block Tango" from Chicago. Homicidal!America anyone? xD


	14. Chapter 14

**Changement**

**Part 14**

Who would have guessed that a simple change of clothes could do so much? Canada had just gone from having the presence of a piece of furniture (literally, Russia had sat on him once) to suddenly being the most popular guy around. He was getting asked to go out for a few drinks after the meeting...let's go clubbing, come over to my house, what about dinner?

Which would have been wonderful. If it weren't for the fact that the one person that he wanted to notice him hadn't said a word to him since he'd stepped into the room.

"So, what do you say?"

And Canada had apparently missed something. He glanced up from where he'd been staring across the table at Prussia to meet the eyes of Denmark, who was hovering over his shoulder.

"Ah, sorry. What did you say?"

Denmark grinned, not looking at all offended that Canada hadn't been paying attention to him. "I asked if you wanted to go out drinking with us tonight. It'll be pretty amazing, if I do say so myself."

"We?"

"Yeah, Prussia, England, and I have little get-togethers occasionally."

And Canada's heart skipped a beat. Prussia? Drinking with Prussia... He felt like that sort of thing was likely to end up badly, but...

"Sure, that sounds fun."

~.~.~

This was not good. This was definitely not good. It was a disaster! His little brother was being molested by not only Prussia, but also Denmark and various other nations!

The hero would not stand for this! If he didn't do something now, one of those jerks was going to steal his brother's innocence!

"America, are you all right?"

Besides, his brother kept sabotaging his plans! First he'd walked in on him and Iggy and effectively killed the mood; then their date had been ruined because Prussia was trying to get advice on how to effectively woo his little brother...

"Alfred?"

Yes, there was nothing else to do. He, as the hero, would have to do everything in his power to protect his baby brother's innocence.

And suddenly America was interrupted from his thoughts by a hand smacking against the back of his head.

He yelped in protest and raised his arms to protect himself from any other sneak attacks. "What the hell?"

"Pay attention when people are talking to you, you bloody git." England was scowling at him, arms crossed over his chest, eyes flashing in irritation. He looked really hot...

He would probably not appreciate that sort of thought process. "What is it?"

"I was going to tell you to stop glaring at Prussia like you're considering where to hide his body. You aren't still angry about what we overheard?"

"He's going to try to seize Mattie's vital regions! Of course I'm still angry!" He had almost forgotten to keep his voice down, but thankfully remembered at the last moment. He definitely didn't want Prussia to hear him bad mouthing him. Actually, what he really didn't want was Germany hearing him—even if he was possibly dead at the moment. He doubted that Germany would be any happier about hearing America insulting his brother than America was about having Prussia going after Canada.

"Al, Prussia isn't all bad. Sure he's egotistical and obnoxious and annoying and cocky and idiotic sometimes and slightly psychotic and overly-attached to that bird of his and likes to cause trouble and can't stay quiet for more than five seconds and is always insulting my cooking and likes to go around yelling about his 'five metres' and how he's going to invade everyone's vital regions and he doesn't know when to quit when he's ahead and..." He trailed off, realizing that he could literally go on forever about Prussia's faults. "But I do think that he actually cares for Mattie. I mean, just seeing the way that he acts around him..."

America had only had to hear the first few words to decide that there was no way that his sweet, innocent little brother was ever dating Prussia. Particularly when you considered the fact that he was _still _way too close to England for America's liking.

Unfortunately, he was stopped from announcing this by another overly loud, egotistical presence.

"Hey, Artie! Long time no see."

"It's only been fifteen minutes, Denmark. We were talking right before the meeting."

Denmark paused. Oh yeah... Oh well. "Well, anyway, Artie. I just invited that cute little ex-colony of yours to hang out with us tomorrow night. Hope ya don't mind."

"Of course not."

America was confused. What were they talking about? "What's going on tomorrow night?"

"I didn't tell you? Prussia, Denmark, and I always go out once a month for a night on the town. I'd almost forgotten that we'd agreed on tomorrow..." Hmm, that meant that he'd have to start looking in the back of his closet for suitable clothing...

The only words that America had needed to hear in those sentences were 'go out' and 'Prussia'. "What? Since when? How come I never knew about it?"

"Why would you need to know about it? We've been doing it for years..."

Denmark cackled, patting England on the back, hard enough that it almost sent him face first into the table. "You should see Artie here when he's got a few beers in him. Remember that time when you jumped up on the bar and started singing Britney Spears? _Complete with dance moves_? Fuck, I don't think I've ever been thrown out of anywhere so hard."

England had attempted to suppress that memory and did not appreciate being reminded of it.

"So, we'll have to show Canada the more awesome side of our impeccable English gentleman tomorrow night." And then he left, moving back over to the Nordic side of the table to annoy Norway.

Now America was really contemplating where to hide Prussia's body. "Iggy~" he whined. "But I wanted to go out tomorrow night with you..."

England blinked in confusion. "Since when?"

Since two seconds ago. "I was going to ask you after the meeting."

"America, that's sweet, but I can't just ditch them. We can go out the next night, all right?"

America pouted. This was so not fair. Stupid Prussia... "But, Iggy~"

England shook his head and then stood up, heading over to where Canada was standing. He should find out where Canada had gotten that outfit. He was having rather pleasant memories brought to the surface by it... Maybe he could find something a little different to add to his wardrobe...

So not fair! America flashed the Prussian another glare. This was going to require desperate measures. Desperate, but still heroic measures...

* * *

A/N: Fail Bros Trio FTW, yes?

I almost feel bad for America. As an older sister, I know how he feels. Damn it, people need to learn to stay away from my little siblings!! *pulls out Switzerland's rifle*

And Iggy singing and dancing to Britney Spears? Heck yes!!! (Haha, the reason I threw that in was cuz Britney Spears suddenly came on in my playlist when I was writing that scene...Shuffle, I love you. You terrify my friends with your random switches...since I listen to every genre of music that you could probably think of)


	15. Chapter 15

**Changement**

**Part 15**

"FRANCIS!!"

France had been walking down the hallway, minding his own business...kind of...if you could call stalking England minding your own business...when he was suddenly interrupted by someone screaming at him from the meeting room.

He turned, rather disappointed by the sudden interruption. England had only been a few steps away from the door to the broom closet. Another few seconds and he could have grabbed the other nation and pulled him into the closet and then...

"Francis!!" He sighed unhappily as he watched England pass by the closet, unmolested. Someday, Angleterre. Someday...

"Yes, Prusse?" He heard his friend running down the hall to catch up with him, so he didn't bother turning around.

"What did you do to Mattie?" Prussia questioned, as he finally reached France. Thinking as he did so that he really should have just made the bastard come to him instead of running. The awesome Prussia shouldn't have to run like that. Still...He hurriedly grabbed the Frenchman's arm and spun him around.

France's eyebrows rose in surprise at the question. "Moi? I didn't do anything to mon cher Mathieu."

Prussia didn't look like he believed him. Further emphasized by the fact that he was almost crushing France's arm in his grip.

France greatly enjoyed the look that was passing over his friend's face. He seemed rather nervous and unsure of himself... He didn't really enjoy the fact that he was losing feeling in his arm, though.

"He looked rather attractive, didn't he? Mathieu should really wear things like that more often. Did you see the attention that he was getting?"

Prussia's gaze flickered away for a moment and his grip loosened slightly. "Ah, he did look pretty ho—" Unfortunately, he managed to catch himself before he finished the sentence and instead turned his irritation back to France. "You had to be the one to do this!! Mattie would never do something like that on his own."

France held up his hands in an innocent gesture. "I swear, Prusse. I had nothing to do with this." For once. "I was just as shocked as you were. Perhaps he merely grew tired of being ignored. Or he was trying to impress someone..."

Prussia immediately paled at that. A feat, since France hadn't been aware that his skin could get any whiter. "Im—impress someone? Who?"

How dense could someone be? Seriously, maybe Prussia had been spending too much time around Spain...

"Hola!"

Speak of the devil.

France turned to see his excessively happy friend standing behind them, flashing both of them a bright smile. "Bonjour, Antoine."

"What are you doing?" Spain questioned, glancing curiously between the smirking France and rather irritated-looking Prussia.

"Prusse was just wondering why in the world Mathieu suddenly decided to come to the meeting dressed like that. Do you have any ideas?"

Spain grinned at both of his friends and then shook his head rather definitively. "No, but he was so cute, wasn't he~? I wish Lovi would wear something like that..."

This was actually kind of bothering France. Why _would _he suddenly dress like that? He would never have imagined his little ex-colony doing something like this...

All right, it was quite obvious that Mathieu was in love with Prussia. That was an established fact. Mathieu was in love with Prussia and Prussia was in love with Mathieu. Neither of them realized that the feeling was returned. So it was obvious that Mathieu must have been dressing like that in order to impress Prussia or make him take notice of him.

However, where in the world had he gotten the idea? And the clothing.

Perhaps Hungary or Japan, but they'd seemed just as shocked as everyone else when he'd walked in. They'd gotten it over incredibly quickly and had started snapping hundreds of pictures, but they'd definitely been confused. Unless they were both really _really _good actors...

"Hey, Gilbert!"

And suddenly another figure appeared out of nowhere, a hand slamming against Prussia's back and almost knocking him straight to the floor.

"Ow...Denmark, what the fuck do you want?" Prussia did not appreciate being caught off guard like that. He was too awesome to get bruised by one of his friends like that.

"I invited that new kid to come out with you, me, and England tomorrow night. You're cool with that, right?"

For a moment, Prussia's expression was—to borrow one of America's expressions—that of a deer caught in the headlights. What? Canada...with them...on one of their drinking nights? Had Denmark forgotten the sorts of things that _happened _on their drinking nights? Then it changed very quickly to intense irritation.

"He's not new! That's Mattie! He's been here for over two hundred years! Why the hell can't anyone ever remember him?!"

France's smirk only widened at that exclamation, while Spain stared off into the distance—probably daydreaming about either Romano or tomatoes or both, and Denmark stared at his friend in surprise.

He'd never seen Prussia get angry like that before... "Ah, okay...Yeah... Well, I invited him to come drinking with us. I just thought I'd tell you... And I'm gonna go find Norway now. See ya later." And he quickly ran off. Note to self, stay away from Prussia until he got over whatever was pissing him off.

"Well, mon cher," and France suddenly through his arm around Prussia's shoulder, grinning to himself as he received a suspicious glare from his friend in response. "This is good news, oui?"

"What are you talking about?"

"It is good news for l'amour! Now you have the chance to make a good impression on sweet Mathieu. Do not worry, mon ami. I will help you with everything you need to know! Just listen to big brother France and he will share all of his secrets with you..."

Making a good impression on Mattie. Somehow Prussia doubted that anything like that was going to be happening.

* * *

A/N: In love Prussia is adorable. And Spain and France are both evil, evil men.

Oh, and I was just on TVtropes today looking through the Hetalia fanfic recommendations to see if anything new was up that I hadn't read yet...and I saw that somebody had put this series!! EEE!!! I was so excited!! To whoever did it, thanks so much!! I love TVtropes, lol.

In random news, I went to the Imperial War Museum a couple days ago and saw France's WWI uniform. And Hetalia was SPOT ON. It was kinda weird, actually, cuz I saw it and was like "FRANCE!!" I also picked up an Italian phrase book for my trip to Italy and France in like…a week and a half… Woohoo, I'm apparently gonna be the translator for my trip (since my roomie isn't very good at languages, I guess) so I've got 2 weeks to learn Italian and French xD Like that's gonna happen.


	16. Chapter 16

**Changement**

**Part 16**

America was, unfortunately, well aware of the fact that he was not the greatest spy in the world. Particularly when you compared him to Mr. 'I can crawl under tables without causing a scene, just like James Bond'... Show off.

Which meant that he'd need some help if he wanted to put his plan into action.

Which was simply this:

Spy on Canada, Prussia, England, and Denmark. While doing so, make sure that: one) Prussia doesn't steal his little brother's innocence and two) he doesn't touch England.

It was a simple plan. The only problem was the first part. Since he couldn't spy to save his life.

Which meant that he was going to require assistance. He, the hero, was going to need help.

The question was, who to ask?

The nations had returned to their meeting after the break, most of them now staring at Canada in amazement, completely ignoring the speech that Estonia was giving about...something... It was oddly calm. Nobody had started arguing yet.

Probably because France seemed to be more interested in something that he was scribbling on a paper, England seemed to be in deep thought, and America was glancing between all of the countries, thinking through his options.

_France is pretty good at spying, but there's no way I'm asking him. Besides, he's friends with Prussia. Who else? Hungary doesn't like Prussia, but then again, she's so obsessed with 'boys' love' that she wouldn't be willing to help with anything that might hurt the chances of Canada and...Prussia...getting together._

He needed a country that was good at sneaking around. That didn't like Prussia. That wouldn't mind helping him ruin Prussia's chances at dating his brother...

Ah...wait.

His eyes suddenly froze on one figure, who was completely ignoring Estonia, along with everyone else. Leaning forward on his elbow. Looking completely bored.

Yes! That was it!

~.~.~

"You want me to do _what_, hamburger bastard?"

America was starting to regret this. He should have just tried this on his own. He wasn't _that _bad at spying... Not bad enough to justify asking Romano for help. But as soon as he'd lain eyes on the other nation, his mind had immediately brought up images of those pests in New York City, Chicago...

The ones who had immigrated to his country from Romano's...

If anybody knew anything about sneaking around—and performing various other illegal actions—it was Romano. "Um...I need help spying on Prussia and my brother?" He didn't really want to explain his whole plan to the other nation, though. After all, even though Romano didn't _seem _to like Prussia much, you could never tell with him. After all, you would think that he and Spain were mortal enemies from the way he talked to the overly-happy nation. And _that _idea could be easily disproved just by walking into the guys' restroom at the wrong time.

America now refused to use the restroom in the meeting building. He'd never realized how strong the little Italian could be when he was incensed. Not until a hand dryer had smashed into the door, only a few inches away from hitting him right in the head.

He shuddered at that thought, automatically glancing around to check that there was nothing weapon-like anywhere nearby.

Meanwhile, Romano was staring at the American in confusion. What? What the fuck was it with people asking him for help in dealing with Prussia and Canada? First Canada himself, then Spain, now _America_. What did he look like? Some damn matchmaker or something?

"Why are you asking me? I don't like the other potato bastard and I definitely don't want to help his fucking romantic life..."

"No, I don't want you to help that way!" America felt a flush slightly creep over his face as Romano continued to stare at him in confusion, arms crossing over his chest in irritation.

Wow...he looked kind of like Iggy when he did that... Creepy.

"Ah, I actually—I—I want to make sure they don't get together!"

Romano immediately blinked in surprise. Huh?

Wait. So America didn't want him to be a matchmaker?

What the fuck was wrong with everybody, damnit? First he had stupid Spagna trying to get them together in ridiculous ways and making him go to Alcide for help. And now he had a hamburger bastard asking him to help keep them apart.

He wanted to go home and curl up in his hammock with some gelato and a few baskets of tomatoes.

"I just need some pointers on spying and all that sort of stuff."

"And why do you think I would know anything about that?"

America still had not found that book on how to read the atmosphere. It would have come in very handy at this moment. "Because the mafia came from you!"

Apparently Romano did not need to have a weapon handy. All he needed was something relatively nearby that he could throw at anyone who said something stupid. In this case, a chair.

America just barely managed to duck the first one. The second one hit him in the stomach.

"Ah! Woah!" He managed to catch the third one and held it up as a shield against any more projectiles. "I didn't mean anything bad by it."

"What is with you bastards and my fucking mafia!?! Chigii~! Fucking bastards!"

America could, however, read the atmosphere well enough to know when it was okay for a hero to retreat from an insane Italian. "Never mind! Forget I said anything! I'll do it myself!"

And now a vase hit the chair that he was still using as a shield, shattering into a few million pieces.

He needed to think fast. Think fast, America... He still needed help. He just needed to calm him down...

"Hey, what if I promise that I'll send you tomatoes from California? For free?"

Romano immediately paused, fingers still clenched around a stapler. The last easily throwable object around. Unless you counted the table itself. "What did you say?"

"Tomatoes. Lots of tomatoes. From California. I'll bet they'll taste different than anything that you've ever had before."

Romano was staring at him now...He set the stapler on the table, looking intrigued by the offer. "How many tomatoes?"

"Tons! As many as you want!" Just as long as you don't try to kill me anymore.

Romano was having an internal dilemma now. On the one hand, he didn't mind Canada. And he'd feel kind of bad if he helped America try to break him up. Besides, they had something in common with having stupid siblings...

On the other hand, tomatoes...

If you thought about it logically, how much harm could America really do? He was an idiot and who knew? It might be good for Canada to deal with this sibling hostility before he and Prussia got together.

And _tomatoes_.

"Fine, hamburger bastard. But you'd better not back out of this or I'll send both my mafia _and _your mafia after you. They'll still listen to me, after all."

"Deal." Now he just needed to find a few centuries' worth of tomatoes ready to ship out to South Italy. Because he somehow didn't dare doubt that threat.

* * *

A/N: Note how hypocritical Romano's being? About _sibling hostility _to your brother's love interest?

And I'm starting to feel like I'm writing a Shakespeare comedy. So many random plots going on!!

In other news, I went to the WWII and Holocaust exhibits today at the Imperial War Museum. So sad :( Still my favourite time period to study, but still...incredibly incredibly sad.


	17. Chapter 17

**Changement**

**Part 17**

Canada could not recall a time in his life when he'd felt more nervous or self-conscious.

He had to keep telling himself that he could do this. He could get through this. If this is what it took to get Prussia to notice him, then he could suffer through it.

"Don't worry, Mateo!" And suddenly he was being pushed forward by a pair of strong arms. "You'll be fine! Gilbert will love you! And besides..." And now Spain was leaning forward, over Canada's shoulder, eyes shining with excitement, "if you need anything, I'll be right in there."

Canada wasn't sure why Spain had decided that he needed to take him to the club where he was meeting Prussia, England, and Denmark. Actually, scratch that, it was probably just because he had guessed (probably rightly) that Canada would never be able to work up the nerve to take himself. Either way, Canada was rather glad for the company. Although that had surprised him a bit. "Really?"

"Of course!" Spain laughed as he glanced back toward the car, where Romano was seated, watching them with arms crossed over his chest. "I want to see how everything goes! That's why I brought Lovi!"

Canada had been wondering about that. Although after a while, he'd figured that Romano had been the one to invite himself along, just to make sure that Canada wasn't trying to steal Spain from him. Since he kept glaring at him from the backseat during the ride over.

"But, what if somebody sees you?"

Spain laughed and waved the concern away with a gesture. "Francis, Gilbert, and I come here all the time. Besides, I'll be careful."

He wasn't entirely sure about that, but then again, it would be nice having back-up in case things went as badly as he was convinced they were about to go.

Plus he rather needed the push that Spain was now giving him. Otherwise he'd probably never make it into the building. "Go on! Have fun!"

Have fun. Yeah, right. He'd be lucky if he didn't have a heart attack by the time this thing was over... He already felt like his heart was beating at a rate that could not be healthy.

What if he _did _suddenly keel over during this? Would they bury him in this outfit or pick something normal? What if he had to wear this for the rest of eternity? Although, would they even let him into heaven if he was wearing something like this.

And now he received an even harder shove that almost sent him face first into the dirt. "Go on, Mateo! Have fun!"

Okay, he could do this. He could do this. He could do this. And that was his mantra as he made his way to the queue waiting for entrance. He could do this. The human gave his ID card a cursory glance before waving him through. He could do this. And he was inside.

No, he couldn't do this.

He was immediately overtaken by sensory overload. Loud, booming music mixed with cigarette smoke and bright, constantly-changing lights... He just stood there for a few seconds, unsure what to do, his heart absolutely racing. No way. This was a huge mistake. He shouldn't be here. He should just turn around right now and go back to his soap operas and chocolate ice cream.

And then a hand was around his wrist and he was being tugged forward. "Hey, Mattie! You made it!"

And all coherent plans for escape disappeared at the sound of that voice. If he thought his heart was beating fast before, now it was quite possibly going to explode from his chest. "Gilbert!" And his voice had just squeaked, just to make things better. He flushed, praying that Prussia hadn't noticed. He already felt pathetic enough without his voice deciding to return to puberty-time.

Prussia at least seemed to not have noticed, as he just continued to weave Canada through the humans standing around, talking, drinking, and generally looking like they were having a good time. A better time than he was having, at least. "Artie and Mathias are sitting over here." He laughed and then turned slightly, giving Canada's outfit a thorough once-over. "And you look awesome."

Canada felt his cheeks heat up at that. "Ah, thanks." Okay, maybe this had been a good idea...

"Matthew!" And now they were being waved over to a table where England and Denmark were seated. Seemingly already started in on the first round of drinks. The first round of many.

"Great that you could make it, kid!" And here Denmark patted him on the back again. Again, almost sending him face-first into the table. Possibly bruising his spine.

"Ow...thanks..." He wondered who would win in a strength match between Denmark and his brother... That'd be a very painful contest to watch...and then he glanced up in surprise, interrupted from his thoughts, as a glass of whiskey was pushed in front of him.

From England, who smiled toward him and motioned with his head toward the glass. "Drink up. We've got a long night ahead of us."

"Um, thanks..." Canada slowly took the glass, raising it to his lips and taking a small sip of the liquid. It'd been quite a while since he'd had any substantial amount of alcohol, so he was hoping to keep his consumption relatively low tonight.

He was starting to doubt that that was going to happen, though. Particularly when Prussia pushed him into the booth and scooted beside him, so close that their legs were touching. Sending shocks of heat up through Canada's entire body. Oh, God. He was going to be beet red in about five seconds... He took another sip, hoping that he could maybe blame the heat in his cheeks on the alcohol.

"You had dinner yet, Mattie?" Prussia questioned. "If not, you might want to get something now, since you never know how long it'll be before we get kicked out when Artie's got a few too many drinks in him."

"Try not to scar the kid too much, Artie," Denmark teased as he elbowed the other man in the side. Again, probably causing a bruise. "Since it's his first time and all."

England scowled back before grabbing his beer and chugging most of the liquid down in one shot—amazing Canada, who hadn't been aware this was possible. "Shut up, git."

"No more Britney Spears impersonations."

And now England launched himself at the other man, screeching in fury while Mathias just laughed.

Oh, great. He'd been here for about ten seconds and already he was feeling completely overwhelmed. What should he do? Should he stop them?

Prussia didn't make a movement to stop the fight; instead, he just laughed hysterically. "This is going to be a fucking awesome night if you two are already fighting!"

Denmark joined him in laughter, pushing the enraged England with one hand as he moved his beer with the other, out of the line of fire. "Hey, simmer down, Artie. We don't want to get kicked out already. We haven't even gotten to the good part yet."

England looked as if he didn't really care and would rather enjoy taking Denmark on right now, consequences be damned. But then he looked toward Canada and seemed to gain at least some control of his temper, settling back into his seat and finishing his drink rather quickly.

Meanwhile, Canada was trying to ignore the fact that Prussia's leg kept bumping into his. Come on, he had to concentrate. He had been dreaming about this event for most of his life, so he needed to enjoy it. Finally being recognized by the other nations! Granted, he'd never expected that he'd have to put on this sort of outfit to have this dream fulfilled, but such was life...

Although, he found that he actually didn't mind the outfit, besides the fact that the fake piercings were making his ears go numb. It fit in well with what the others were wearing. Particularly England's outfit, which looked as if it had been dragged right out of the punk age. Tight, plaid pants with chains hanging down the sides, a black T-shirt with the name of some British band on it, four piercings in his left ear, six in his right. And—which just showed Canada's distraction, as he hadn't even noticed it until now—a lip ring...

Canada was now rather distracted by that. Ow—that looked painful. Especially since he was pretty positive it was real...

Wow, if his brother was here now...

Actually, he was really happy that his brother wasn't here now. He'd had enough mental trauma involving the two of them. He didn't need to see how his brother would react to _this _sort of thing.

His gaze now flickered to Prussia, who was engaged in conversation with Denmark about something or other; he was too distracted to pay any attention to what they were saying. He was dressed in a much simpler outfit. Black skinny jeans worn through in various areas, black combat boots, a white wife-beater with some German phrase written on it in black and red print. This all covered with a black leather jacket left unzipped.

He looked absolutely amazing...

And he was ogling.

He hurriedly turned his attention back to the whiskey, taking another—much larger—gulp. God, this night was going to be a disaster.

* * *

A/N: I decided to use Mathias as Denmark's real name, since I already used it as his name in Tomatita and I've seen it used it quite a lot of other fics.

And I would be ogling too, Mattie, don't worry.

Also, I've gotten fanart for the first chapter of Desparición! Go check it out on my profile and make sure to show LOVE LOVE!!


	18. Chapter 18

**Changement**

**Part 18**

America had never realized just how difficult spying could be. Sure, Romano had given him some tips and everything, but he hadn't said anything about how to deal with something like this...

He was finding it absolutely impossible to keep up his spying on Canada and Prussia.

Because, sitting right across from his brother, was Iggy dressed up in the sexiest outfit he'd ever seen. Ever. Because not only was it tight in all of the right places and gave off this whole air of 'fuck with me and I'll break your arm', but he was also wearing a _lip ring_.

Lip ring. God, he couldn't take his eyes off of him. What would it be like to kiss him? To feel that metal...

No! America had to physically shake his head to clear his mind of those sorts of images...of suddenly jumping up, grabbing Iggy by the arm, and dragging him into the nearest restroom... No! He needed to concentrate! This was all part of Prussia's evil plan to steal his baby brother's innocence!

He couldn't have said how this could possibly be part of Prussia's plan, but right now he was desperate. And Prussia seemed to be the cause of all of his sexual frustrations right now, so he deserved to be blamed for everything.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

America almost jumped out of his skin at the sudden exclamation right by his ear. Thankfully, he managed to keep himself from completely freaking out. Unthankfully, in the process, he did manage to bang his knee against the underside of the table and spent the next few seconds cursing under his breath in pain.

Romano was standing beside the table, eyeing him as if he were a complete idiot. "You stick out like a sore thumb, bastard. You're lucky that they haven't noticed you already."

America glanced up for a moment at the other nation, and then looked down at his outfit. It was the same thing he'd been wearing all day: a pair of baggy blue jeans, blue and white sneakers, and a red, white, and blue hoodie over a red T-shirt. "What do you mean?"

Romano rolled his eyes. Why in the world had he agreed to this? Even tomatoes weren't worth being forced to deal with two idiots simultaneously. He glanced behind him, grateful (for once) for Spain's oblivious, talkative nature. He was now standing at the bar, probably telling his entire life story to an obviously-stressed bartender... "Everybody else is dressed up. You look like you rolled out of bed and threw on the first thing you saw. At the very least, lose the hoodie."

America hesitated for a moment. He liked his hoodie. But then he obeyed, setting the sweatshirt on the table in front of him. "Better?"

"You're wearing a McDonald's T-shirt..." Romano blinked and then decided to not even bother. "Yeah, better. Now, I've got to go before that idiot starts to wonder where I went. If I were you, I'd find some chick to dance with. That's probably the best place to start if you want to put your plan into action. If you even have a plan."

America frowned slightly. Find a girl to dance with? His eyes immediately flickered back over to the table where an incredibly hot England was arguing with Denmark while holding a half-full pint of beer.

Romano took this momentary distracted to leave, noticing that Spain had finally moved away from the bar and was now searching the surroundings for him. He hurriedly wove through the crowd of humans, appearing at Spain's elbow and grabbing one of the wine glasses that he was holding. "Took you long enough."

Spain immediately beamed, all attention immediately switching to rest on the smaller male. "Lo siento, Lovi."

Romano took a sip of the wine before beginning to head away from where the others were sitting, toward the stairs leading to the second level. "Let's get a table. I'm fucking hungry."

"Of course, Lovi!"

~.~.~

"Ve~ Doitsu! Let's dance!"

"I'll dance with you, mon cher Feli~"

Germany still didn't know how he'd gotten talked into this. One minute he'd been sitting in his office, working on his paperwork. Prepared for a Prussia-free evening. The next, he had an Italian hanging off one arm, squealing about going dancing, and a Frenchman hanging off the other, going on about spying on 'mon cher Mathieu and Prusse'.

And now he was at a club. With lights and music and all sorts of other things that made him immediately want to turn around and run back to the relative safety of his home sweet home.

"Per favore, Doitsu?"

"Feli..." Germany sighed and rubbed at the space between his eyebrows, flashing France a quick glance. "Why are we here again?"

"This is where your brother and mon cher Mathieu are having their date. We need to make sure that everything goes well!"

Meaning that France wanted to spy on them.

Italy was still tugging on his sleeve. "Ve~ Doitsu? Can't we dance?" And now he looked disappointed...

Germany felt his stomach twist nervously at that expression. He couldn't say no... But, he also could _not _dance. At all. It would just be a complete embarrassment if he tried to dance.

He needed to distract the Italian. Quickly. "Ah, Feli...Why don't we eat first? Maybe they have pasta?"

That was all he needed. Italy immediately squealed in excitement and darted toward the stairway, almost running into a few human couples in his excitement. "Ve~! Pasta!"

Germany immediately regretted his words. "Ah, Ita—I mean, Feli! Feli, watch where you're going!"

France laughed as he watched Germany attempt to follow the Italian. Unfortunately, he was quite a bit bigger than his partner and therefore was having more trouble making his way through the crowd.

Ah, this was going to be a fun night. All he had to do now was find a pretty human or two to while away the time until his dear Angleterre got drunk enough to be open to his advances...or if not exactly open, at least less able to escape from him.

He grinned as he searched the crowd for the perfect prey. There was one girl sitting by herself at the bar...but that was too easy. Maybe one of the waiters? But no, he still had his eyes on that one waiter from that bar in England. He'd have to make a trip back there soon...

Wait... There... His eyes narrowed predatorily as he eyed one of the couples dancing together near the centre of the dance floor. Yes, that would be perfect.

It had been a while since he'd tried seducing both halves of a couple at the same time.

Oui, this was definitely going to be a fun night.

* * *

A/N: Writing from France's POV is kind of scary, yes? Yes...

So I completely made up the layout of this club just because I could. Okay, first floor has the dance floor and bar, second floor has a small restaurant (and another bar). You can see the first floor from the second floor if you're at certain tables, since it sort of hangs over the first floor with this glass wall thing around the perimeter... If that makes sense?


	19. Chapter 19

**Changement**

**Part 19**

He was not getting flustered. Because that would be completely and totally unawesome. Awesome people did not get flustered in romantic situations. Awesome people always knew exactly how to act in any situation because awesome people were always in complete control of their awesomeness.

So why did he feel as if he were about to hyperventilate every time Canada's knee brushed against his under the table?

For once in his life, Prussia was completely sober while sitting at a bar with England and Denmark. Both of whom were well on their way to the level of drunkenness that would lead to England jumping up on the bar and dancing to whatever song hit his fancy and Denmark picking fights with random humans just for kicks.

Usually, Prussia would be just as drunk, ready to egg on whichever one moved first. And possibly join them if he felt like it. However, for whatever reason, he didn't actually feel like drinking tonight.

As he was having an internal argument with himself right now. Okay, maybe he did like Canada romantically... Maybe. He could deal with that, fine. After all, Mattie was pretty awesome, so it wasn't like there would be any problems of his awesomeness being hurt by association. It wasn't like he was his brother or somebody like that.

Okay, so let's say that he did like Mattie in _that _way... What should he do about it?

He sighed and rested his elbow on the bar, staring at Canada, who was starting on his third drink of the night. Not too bad compared to the amount of alcohol Prussia usually went through, but bad enough for someone who wasn't used to drinking so much...

This was annoying. The awesome Prussia shouldn't have any problem with this sort of thing. The awesome Prussia could have any man or woman swooning at his feet if he wanted. He should _not _be depending on France's romantic advice.

But, right now, he couldn't think of anything better. So he took a deep breath... "Mattie?"

Canada jumped slightly at the sudden voice and turned, eyes wide in confusion and surprise as their gaze met. "Ah, yes?"

This was so unawesome. And France was never going to find out that he'd actually taken his advice. Because he would never hear the end of it. "Um, I was just wondering, Mattie..." He hesitated and then continued quickly, "Why don't we go dancing together?"

And Canada choked on his drink.

For the next few seconds, Prussia attempted desperately to help the boy breathe again, smacking him on the back, yelling at him that he'd better not die. Thankfully, it didn't take too long before he managed to catch his breath. Still completely freaked him out. It was only when he had finally stopped coughing and glanced up at Prussia that the albino nation could relax. Kind of. At least, he stopped panicking and thinking that he'd killed the poor kid. Instead, he started panicking that he was about to be completely rejected.

"Ah, you want to dance?" Canada was pretty sure that he must have heard him wrong. There was no way that Prussia had just asked him...

"Ja, why? You don't want to?"

It must normal situations, Canada would have immediately refused. He had no idea how to dance; he would just end up tripping or doing something else stupid and making a complete fool of himself. And the night would turn into a complete disaster.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, tonight wasn't a normal night for him. As he _had _been drinking quite a bit more than he usually did. And right now, the inhibitions that would usually have kept him in his seat were not working at full capacity.

Which was why he suddenly stood up, almost falling right back into his seat, but thankfully catching himself on the edge of the table. England and Denmark were both staring at him in confusion, apparently having missed the previous conversation. "Where're you goin'?" England questioned, reaching out for his beer and making an irritated noise when he found his glass empty.

"I'm gonna take Mattie dancing," Prussia remarked, pushing his half-full glass into England's line of vision. "You two have fun without us. Try not to do anything too stupid until I get back."

England grabbed the glass, completely ignoring the explanation in favour of downing the glass. "You better not be tryin' anythin' with Mattie."

"Nothing at all, Artie." And suddenly he slid his hand into Canada's, almost causing the Canadian to instantly die of a heart attack. It couldn't be healthy for someone's heart to be beating that fast... And then a pair of excited ruby eyes turned toward him. "Come on, Mattie."

"Ah—all right..." And now he was being dragged toward the dance floor. His entire body pretty close to going straight into shock.

They wove through the humans lining the perimeter of the floor. Girls standing in groups and half-dancing, half-talking... a few slightly awkward couples... Straight toward the jumping, gyrating centre of the dance.

Canada was instantly wondering what he had been thinking when he accepted. "Ah, Gil..."

Prussia ignored him in favour of dragging him deeper into the crowd, finally squishing into a space that shouldn't have been big enough to fit one person, let alone two.

Which meant that they were crushed right up against each other. Surrounded by bodies... Bodies bumping, grinding, jumping around...

And then a pair of arms slid around Canada's waist and he was brought even closer to the other's body.

"Come on, Mattie, don't tell me that you've never danced before?" Prussia was laughing, eyes sparking with a mixture of excitement and adrenaline. Having these many people around...moving and singing...and the music pounding so loudly that it seemed to vibrate through their entire bodies. It was getting rid of any nervousness that he'd been harbouring. Besides, Mattie had said yes...

"Ah...it's been a while."

"Just move. Let yourself go. Nobody's watching."

For a moment, Canada just continued to stand there, completely panicking. Oh, God. This could not be happening. He was dreaming. That was it. He was dreaming. And soon he'd wake up and...

Although, now that he thought about it, even if this was a dream, shouldn't he make the best of it? If he didn't, he'd regret this forever. And...Prussia was the one who'd initiated this, so maybe...Maybe Spain's plan had worked?

"All right," he finally remarked, smiling slightly as he glanced up into the other male's eyes before slowly twining his arms around his neck. Fine. Even if this was some sort of dream, then he might as well make it the best damn dream he'd ever had.

* * *

A/N: I love how as soon as I got to the part when they were dancing, I had to switch from the cute, happy Spanish song I was writing to at the beginning to a rather intense dance song. I have to change the music to match the scene xD

By the way, on that note, anybody have any good club music recommendations? ;D I'm always looking for good music to write to...

And is it bad that I want to go to a club now? ;D It's just been way too long since I got to dance with a whole bunch of other people... The last was a swing dance.


	20. Chapter 20

**Changement**

**Part 20**

"Ve~, Doitsu! Prussia-nii looks so happy!"

Italy turned back slightly to catch a glimpse of Germany's face, beaming brightly at him before leaning forward again to try to catch another glimpse of that silvery head. At least Prussia was easy to pick out in a crowd. And there he was! He seemed to be laughing, arms around Canada's waist, pulling him tightly against his body.

Italy was very happy right now. Because he wanted Prussia and Canada to both be happy. And they were both very in love with each other. Just like him and Germany!

Although he did still want to dance. Maybe he could find France again, since he'd said that he'd dance with him...

After another moment, he glanced behind him again, now noticing that Germany looked rather nervous. He blinked, slightly surprised by the expression. "Doitsu? What's wrong?"

"Feli, please get away from there." Germany's voice was rather tense as he eyed the smaller nation. Who happened to now be leaning out...very far out...over the glass wall that was the only thing holding him back from a rather nasty fall. A fall that wouldn't kill him, since he was a nation, but would definitely lead to massive injuries.

"But...I can't see Prussia-nii from over there." He leaned slightly farther out, trying to see Canada's face.

And suddenly a warm arm wrapped around his own waist and he found himself hanging a few feet off the floor.

"Ve~!" He glanced back, startled, to see that Germany had lifted him up and was now flushing slightly as he took a few steps back.

"Stand back here. It's safer..."

"You put my brother down, potato bastard!"

"Lovi!"

And suddenly Germany was tackled from behind by an enraged Italian. An enraged Italian that he was pretty sure was stalking him. How otherwise could he keep popping up out of nowhere in the most random of places?

Not that the tackle actually did anything, since Germany had built up excellent balance skills, particularly against random nations flying out of nowhere. It was a skill you had to develop if you were going to be dealing with Italy and Prussia on a daily basis.

"Nii-chan!" And Italy sounded absolutely thrilled that his brother had suddenly appeared, of course. "What are you doing here, nii-chan?"

"What the fuck are _you _doing here?" Romano retaliated, glaring up at his younger sibling with a heated glare that could have melted iron.

"We're spying on Prussia-nii's date!"

Germany would have smacked his head against the nearest wall at that statement if it weren't for the fact that his arms were still occupied with a certain Italian. And...wait...

He immediately flushed, almost losing his grip on Italy when he realized that he was still holding onto him. In public... And Italy seemed completely fine with it, not that that was at all surprising.

He hurriedly lowered his arms, setting Italy's feet back onto the floor. Not that it really did much to increase the space between them, as Italy almost immediately latched back onto his arm. Still beaming at his older brother, who looked as if he were considering the best place to dump Germany's body once his mafia got done with him.

"Feli!" And suddenly another clingy figure had attached to the first clingy figure. Which did nothing to alleviate Germany's feelings of awkwardness. Especially because now Romano's expression was definitely hinting that he was contemplating pushing all three of them over the wall.

"Ve~ Spain-nii!"

Spain was cuddling Italy in his usual, enthusiastic manner, cooing over how cute he was in his outfit—a pair of black and white pin-striped pants and a loose, untucked white dress shirt, over which hung a small silver cross on a chain.

"Qué lindo, Feli! I want a picture of you and Lovi together!" He slipped his cell phone from his pocket and pointed it toward the older Vargas twin, who looked as if he was about to curse him out. Unfortunately for him, Italy completely distracted him by jumping straight from his grip on Germany to cling to his brother's arm.

"Ve~! Smile, nii-chan!"

"What the hell—?"

Spain was used to snapping photos quickly if they involved Romano, so he hurriedly took this one, turning the phone around immediately to check the picture out. "You two are so cute!!" he squealed excitedly. "That's going to be my new wallpaper!!"

"What the fu—delete that, bastard!"

"Ve~ nii-chan..." And now Italy was tugging hard on his brother's arm. Not allowing him the chance to go attempt to throttle Spain. "Nii-chan, come dance with me? I want to go dancing."

"Wha—? I am not dancing with you!"

"But Doitsu won't and I don't where France-nii went and I want to dance!" And now Italy pulled out his ultimate weapon. Which no one, not even his brother, had yet learned how to defeat... The big, teary puppy eyes, complete with a few well-placed sniffles.

Romano blinked a couple of times before hurriedly turning his head to the side. Unfortunately, he'd already been exposed. "Ugh...I don't want to."

"But, nii-chan, you're so good at dancing!"

Spain's eyes widened in surprise at this statement. "He is?"

"Shut up! No I'm not! I hate dancing!"

"No you don't, nii-chan. Per favore? I won't ask for anything ever ever again."

That was a definite lie. Romano snorted in disbelief, but glanced again at his little brother. Who was still pulling off the adorable 'you won't really say no to me, right?' look.

"Fine. Idiot. But you'd better leave me alone for the rest of the night."

"Yay!!" And before Romano could react, he was being dragged toward the stairs, almost tripping and falling down them as Italy refused to release his arm. "Ve~ this'll be so much fun, nii-chan!!"

For a moment, Spain and Germany just stood there. And then Spain squealed, loudly enough to capture the attention of most of the humans seated nearby. "Qué lindo! We have to go get pictures. Come on, Ludwig!"

Germany wondered if anybody would notice if he just went home now. Unfortunately, before he could make his escape, Spain gripped his arm and dragged him toward the stairs.

He was rather doubting that he'd be able to get away anytime soon.

* * *

A/N: You must be quick with your camera if you want a picture of Romano. Because otherwise he will smash your camera to pieces. As Spain has learned on multiple occasions.

And thanks to everyone for your marvelous music suggestions! You make my muse happy. Although now I really really want to go out dancing... But unfortunately, I can't. Sigh...


	21. Chapter 21

**Changement**

**Part 21**

America was facing one of the hardest decisions of his life. One of those decisions that no one should ever be forced to make, just because it was cruel...so cruel...to make a person choose between options like these.

On the one hand, he _had _to go follow his brother, who had just been dragged away from him by that evil albino ex-nation freak. If he didn't, who knew what could happen?!

On the other hand, England was sitting right _there_. Right in front of him. Looking absolutely incredible and tempting and he wanted to just go over there right _now_... But if he did that, then he'd give away his presence and then Prussia would get away with his evil plan... And a hero would never leave their little sibling when they were in need!

Damn Prussia. This was all his fault.

After a few more seconds of staring at England, he slowly stood and started to head toward the dance floor, glancing around for a girl standing alone who he could ask to dance with him. He honestly couldn't care less which one he chose. There was a rather attractive brunette leaning against a nearby wall, sipping at a glass of some mixed drink, watching the dancers with a rather blank expression. She'd do as well as anyone.

Now to turn on some of that American charm.

"Hey." Probably not the most original way to start up a conversation, but whatever. He just wanted to get this over with. "Want to dance with me?"

She blinked once, obviously startled by the sudden presence. Then she gave him a long once-over, a smirk crossing over her lips as she nodded once, setting her glass down on the bar behind her. "Why not?" She held out a hand, which he took, grateful that for once things had worked out without any random hitch. "I'm Mariah, not that it matters."

"Alfred. Alfred Jones."

"All right, then, Alfred. Nice to meet you. Let's dance."

~.~.~

Canada couldn't remember the last time he'd had this much fun. Probably never, now that he thought about it.

He couldn't even remember how many songs they'd danced through, his nervousness eventually being replaced with excitement as Prussia coaxed him to 'let loose, have some fun'. Until he was laughing with Prussia, singing along with the music when he knew the words.

Although now he was completely out of breath, exhausted, and thirsty. "Hey, Gil." And his clothes were sticking to him uncomfortably with sweat. "I think I'm gonna get a drink, 'kay?"

Prussia grinned and nodded, slipping his hand into Canada's. "I'll go with you, otherwise you'll end up getting lost."

"I would not..."

"Sure, Mattie." And now Prussia was tugging him toward the bar, weaving easily through the crowd of people. "Of course you wouldn't."

Canada pouted slightly, not liking people doubting his abilities. His brother was the one who couldn't even read a map if it wasn't of himself.

Prussia noticed the motion and laughed, beaming as Canada's pout only deepened. "You're cute, Mattie," he remarked teasingly, ruby eyes glinting in amusement at the flush that crossed over the Canadian's face.

Prussia was really starting to get his hopes up right now. Not that he really knew a ton of the signs that might mean that someone was romantically interested in him, but the fact that Mattie had agreed to dance with him and had seemed to like it had made him rather hopeful that the Canadian might like him. He might be interested... And they'd been dancing very close together, too. Which really had been very enjoyable.

France had said that dancing was romantic, too. And that Canada was a rather intense romantic. So that meant that everything should be going awesomely, right?

Anyway, he sat down on a barstool once they made it to the bar, pulling Canada down onto the one beside him. "Two beers. And make sure it's the good stuff; not that shit that you usually serve people."

The bartender gave the albino a rather dirty look, but moved to fill their mugs, passing the beverages to them after a minute or two.

Prussia stuck his tongue out him once he'd turned his back to move down the bar. Which made Canada giggle. Earning them another glare when the bartender turned around again.

Prussia laughed as well at Canada's abashed expression. "Who would've thought you were a rebel? I like it."

Canada blushed. Great. He was starting to pick up on his brother's childishness.

"So, I'm kinda curious..." And suddenly Prussia was back in his personal space, leaning very close. Close enough that it would be incredibly easy to just lean a little closer and press his lips against those nice, soft... What the heck was he thinking?!

"Ah..." And his voice squeaked as he hurriedly leaned backward, inwardly cursing at his mind for bringing up that sudden mental image. "Ah, what?"

"Not that I don't like it. I really do. You look awesome, but why in the world did you come into the meeting wearing _that_?" Prussia nodded toward the outfit Canada was currently wearing, eyes intent on the Canadian's gaze. "You almost gave everyone a heart attack. Which actually would have been hilarious. You should do stuff like that more often. Especially your brother's look..." And now he chuckled, obviously remembering America's expression at seeing his brother in that sort of outfit.

Crap, he hadn't thought of what he'd say when Prussia asked him about the outfit... "Uh...I...I wanted people to notice me..."

"I imagine that there are easier ways of doing that then completely changing your style. Did France put you up to it?"

"No, not _France_..." Aw, shoot...

"So somebody _did_! Who was it?" Huh, so France had actually been telling the truth...

Shoot. He shouldn't have said that. Although, was it a huge deal if Prussia found out that Spain had given him this outfit? It didn't really matter all that much... "Um...it isn't important..."

"Who? Hungary? Japan?" Prussia wracked his brain for anyone who had that sort of diabolical mind. "Bruder? He's got some weird kinks..."

Canada blushed. He didn't need to know that. "No..."

"Italy! I always knew that there was something devious about him..."

"No."

"England?" England was the one with the awesome punk-collection that Prussia would occasionally raid when he was bored and didn't feel like going out and buying clothing... Not that he'd ever admit that he sometimes borrowed England's clothing (and it _was_ borrowing; he usually gave it back...eventually). Because awesome people didn't need anybody's help when it came to style.

"No." Canada was actually a little surprised that he was doing so badly at this. Spain was one of his best _friends_ after all.

Of course, Canada hadn't expected that oblivious, happy-go-lucky Spain would be able to come up with an idea like this either.

"Hmm..." Prussia frowned as he attempted to think of someone else. "Is it a girl or a guy?"

"Guy."

Not that that helped anything. Why in the world were all the nations guys anyway? "Which area of the world?"

"Europe."

Still not very helpful. Canada was grinning, obviously amused by this guessing game. "Northern or Southern Europe?"

"Southern."

"Greece!"

"No."

"Fuck." Prussia pouted as he took a sip of his beer, Canada laughing as he joined him, downing most of his in one gulp. Apparently he hadn't been kidding when he said he was thirsty... Not that beer would probably do much to help.

"It isn't that hard, Gilbert," Canada teased, leaning on his elbow as he grinned in amusement at Prussia's irritated expression. This was almost more fun than dancing.

"Not my fault that everybody's a pervert... Are you counting Russia as part of Europe?"

"He's not in Southern Europe anyway, even if I was."

"Romano?"

"You're getting closer."

Another pause and then his eyes widened in shock. "Wait...not Tonio?"

Canada laughed. "Yes. Finally."

"Tonio? Really?" Prussia blinked, surprised. "Why? The only person he's usually perverted around is Romano..." Spain wasn't interested in Canada, was he?

Prussia's eyes narrowed slightly. If he was, then Romano would definitely be hearing about it. And he wouldn't feel bad at all when they found out that he'd been thrown into the Mediterranean while wearing cement boots.

"Ah..." Canada noticed the rather angry expression on Prussia's face. "You aren't angry with him, are you? I was the one who asked him for help. Don't be mad at him, please?"

Now Prussia was even more confused. "Why would you ask him for help? Help with what?"

Oh crap...

"Uh..."

"Sirs, you can't go up there!!"

"Fuck off, wanker!"

Immediately every eye in the club turned to the stage which had, up until this point, been empty of everything but a few microphones, instrument cases, a drum set, speakers... Everything prepared for the live band that would be playing later. Right now, however, the stage was holding two figures that definitely shouldn't have been there.

"Fuck yeah!!" Denmark shouted, as he fist pumped with one hand, the other working on tuning a bass that he'd swiped from one of the cases. "You ready to rock, motherfuckers!?!"

"Shut up, Mathias..." The other figure was working on one of the microphones as he fixed the strap of his electric guitar with the other hand. Overly large eyebrows furrowed as he attempted to tug the stand down to the proper height.

Canada's jaw dropped in a mixture of shock and horror. "Oh no..."

"Oh yes!" Prussia immediately jumped up, turning toward Canada with a slightly maniacal grin. "Damn, you've gotta see this! Make sure you get a front row spot!" And then he was running through the crowd toward the stage, knocking people out of his way so he could reach it more quickly. "Don't you dare start without me, you bastards!"

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. This could not end well...

* * *

A/N: Heeheehee. ;D *evil chuckle* Dude, I so want to be at this club right now.


	22. Chapter 22

**Changement**

**Part 22**

America had been attempting to pay attention to the girl that he'd chosen as his date. Mariah, hadn't she said her name was? However, it was so difficult when you were attempting to find your younger brother in a crowd of constantly moving humans.

It really shouldn't be that hard. He was with _Prussia_ for God's sake. Prussia was a freaking _albino_. You couldn't stand out much more than that if you tried. Plus he was loud and obnoxious, so that should have led America straight toward him too.

"You lookin' for someone?"

And he suddenly jerked his attention back to the girl standing in front of him; she didn't look angry, thankfully, but she definitely didn't look very happy. "Uh..." Might as well tell the truth. It wasn't very heroic to lie to a girl. "Yeah...My brother's here."

"He not supposed to be or somethin'?"

"No. He's here with this bastard who..." And then he hesitated, not sure how much he should say. After all, she was a human. And it was usually safer to just not let the humans know anything about your private life. "Who..."

She suddenly smirked, seeming to guess at the rest of his sentence. "Ooh, you don't approve of your baby brother's date?"

It sounded less heroic when she said it like that. "I'm just trying to protect him! I know this bastard! He's a complete pervert! And he's never been able to commit to a relationship! And...and..." He just didn't want Mattie to get hurt...

"You sure he needs your help with that? You can't control who people are gonna wanna date."

"But he's my little brother! And he's so quiet and shy and stuff... He'd totally go along with whatever anybody told him to do!" Poor Mattie. He _needed_ a heroic older brother to save him!

"Sounds like you aren't givin' him enough credit." She smirked slightly and then tilted her head slightly to the side. "You almost sound jealous. You don't want your little brother to get stolen from you or somethin'? Or you just havin' bad luck in your own love life?"

He almost choked at that. What? Of course he wasn't having any trouble with his love life! Besides the fact that Prussia (or Prussia-related things) kept interrupting him right when he and England were just starting to get more intimate. Other than that, everything was perfect.

"Of course not! I'm not having any problems with my love life! We're totally perfect!"

"You ready to rock, motherfuckers!?!"

And suddenly he was startled by that very sudden, very familiar voice.

Oh no... They hadn't... He turned toward the stage, along with just about everybody else in the crowd. To see England and Denmark. Standing onstage. With instruments. Quite obviously about to show off their talents to the crowd.

Shit.

"Igg—Iggy?" He managed to stammer out.

"Your brother?" Mariah questioned, looking rather entertained by the shocked expression that had crossed his face.

"No..."

And suddenly Prussia darted out of the crowd with a shout of "Don't you dare start without me, you bastards!" He practically threw himself onto the stage with an excited cackle after that, instantly heading over to the drum set and grabbing the sticks.

"That's the guy my brother's dating..."

"He's pretty nice-looking at least."

America flashed her a look that plainly read 'traitor'. She just laughed as she moved closer to the stage, motioning for him to follow her. "Come on, this should be entertainin'."

He started to follow and then suddenly was thrown off balance by a body smashing into him from the side. His first instinct was to immediately attempt to throw it off. Before it made an excited "Ve~" noise.

He immediately relaxed and sighed in relief at that. "Hey, It—Feliciano."

"Amer—" And he was cut off by a swat on the head.

"Idiot, remember where you are!"

Italy pouted, but nodded at his brother, who was flashing him a rather furious glare. Then he turned back toward America and cuddled against his arm like it was some overgrown teddy bear. "Ve~ Alfred. Why are you here too? Are you spying on Pru—Gilbert-nii and Matthew-nii's date too?"

"Uh...sure?" He glanced toward Romano, who just rolled his eyes and started to tug his brother off of the other man. "Is that why you're here, Feli?"

"Sí!" He nodded and bounced slightly in his excitement. "Prussia—Gilbert-nii is so happy now! It makes me happy too!" He clapped his hands now, eyes sparkling in obvious joy.

...Great...Now he was feeling guilty. "Ah...that's great..."

And suddenly the rather unobservant Italian seemed to notice that England, Prussia, and Denmark happened to be on stage. Apparently arguing about what song they were going to start playing. He looked even more excited now. If that was even possible. "Ve~! Did England start a band?! We should go watch the band, nii-chan!!"

"More friends of yours, Alfred Jones?"

Romano and Italy both jumped at that, startled by the sudden voice coming from behind them.

"Um..." Mariah was suddenly standing at his side again, apparently having finally realized that he hadn't followed her up closer to the stage. "Yeah, these are my..." Business partners? Friends? "Acquaintances, Feliciano and Lovino Vargas..."

It took Italy about two seconds of looking at her to burst into a wide grin and decide that he liked her and that he now needed to make friends. "Hi!! I'm Feliciano! Do you like pasta? You're really pretty; I like your dress. And your earrings are really pretty too."

She just stared at him in surprise for a moment and then broke into a wide grin before glancing at America. "I like this one. I think I'll keep him."

"You should meet Doitsu! You'll like him too! Although he can be rather scary when you first meet him, but he's really nice... Even if he wouldn't dance with me. But that's okay because nii-chan agreed to dance with me. And nii-chan is a really good dancer, even though he hardly ever does it." He glanced toward his brother, who just looked rather exasperated with the whole business...

And they were interrupted again as Prussia tapped on his microphone. Sending a squeal of feedback through the speakers. England cursed rather colourfully at that, sending Prussia a threatening glare. Prussia just stuck his tongue out in response and then spoke into the microphone. "All right, everybody!! You all ready now?! This first song goes out to the most awesome person in this room—besides me, of course—Mattie Williams!! Where are ya, Mattie?"

America immediately perked up at that, searching the crowd for any sign of his younger brother. Although, knowing Mattie, he was probably attempting to sink into the floor right now...

"Aw, how sweet. That's your brother, right? He's got a song dedicated to him."

After another moment, England took a step forward, one hand sliding down the neck of his guitar, the other resting on the stand... One foot starting to tap out the beat as Prussia began to settle into a rhythm. A surprisingly steady one considering the fact that they should—by human standards—be way too drunk to be doing anything as coordinated as standing, let alone playing instruments.

And then England opened his mouth to sing...

And America completely forgot why he was even in this club in the first place.

* * *

A/N: What is it with me and my OC's all of a sudden? Lol. First Alcide, now Mariah, and those two jerks in "Just a Little Push"...

Anybody wanna give me a good song for Prussia to have dedicated to Mattie? Preferably one that involves the instruments mentioned ;) I might have one already, but I'm curious about your ideas.

Oh, and on a not so awesome note. Anybody heard of the whole wonderful thing with Iceland's volcano and the mess that that's causing across Europe with the airports...? Well, guess who's supposed to be flying out to Italy on Tuesday? Yep... Cross your fingers, pray, or whatever you wanna do that the airports open back up by Tuesday. Cuz I have no clue what I'm gonna do if I miss that flight...


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: The song used throughout this chapter is "Paralyzer" by Finger Eleven.

* * *

**Changement**

**Part 23**

Canada had never been so embarrassed in his life. Even when he'd walked into the meeting in this outfit, he hadn't felt this embarrassed. Probably because in that case, he'd had a few days to work up the nerve to do it. Right now, he was being forced to watch as Prussia stood on that stage and dedicated a song to him. By name. While staring straight at him.

He seriously thought that he was about to faint out of pure embarrassment. Why in the world did Prussia seem so determined to make him the centre of attention? He was quite happy with standing in the background. It was much less stressful.

Fortunately, before he could _actually _pass out, England took a step closer to the microphone, effectively distracting Canada from his own embarrassment. Wow... He'd never seen England like this before. He was gazing around the crowd, a smirk on his lips, entire body radiating confidence...

Then he nodded once toward Prussia before playing a chord.

And Prussia set into the rhythm, beaming straight at Canada, who could feel his face flushing. Oh no. He could not deal with this. No way, no how... No...

Denmark and England joined in, Denmark smirking at him teasingly. Before England opened his mouth and began to sing.

And Canada's jaw dropped in shock.

"_I hold on so nervously. To me and my drink. I wish it was coolin' me; but so far has not been good. It's been shitty and I feel awkward as I should..."_

Wow... He had _not _known that England could sing like that. And look so—frankly, although it felt really really weird to say it—downright sexy.

Holy crap. If America were here, he'd probably have passed out from blood loss by this point.

And since when did Prussia know how to play the drums?

"Hola, Mateo!"

He almost jumped out of his skin at that.

"Lo siento, Mateo. I didn't mean to scare you."

For a moment, all Canada could do was turn around and stare at the other nation. Why in the world was Spain here? What was going on? "Wha—what? What are you doing...?"

"I brought Lovi dancing. Did you know that he's really very good at dancing? He and Feli were dancing earlier and I got pictures!" Lots of pictures. "And videos..." Lots of videos.

Oh crap. "Feliciano's here too?" Oh God, everybody was going to know about this by the end of the night... Or actually, probably they already knew all about it. Italy had a gift when it came to spreading information.

"And Germany too."

Canada felt his face flush to a probably unhealthy shade of red. He hurriedly turned back to the stage. Great. Great. Not only were all of the nations going to know about this, but the brother of his crush was actually present when it was happening.

"_Well, I'm not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you. I wanna make you move, because you're standin' still. If your body matches what your eyes can do, you'll probably move right through me on my way to you!"_

And Prussia was staring at him, red eyes holding something unreadable. Canada flushed even brighter. What...He didn't know what to think... Prussia couldn't really... He couldn't really be...

"You should go up there and dance," Spain suddenly exclaimed, pushing him slightly forward. Almost into one of the girls dancing in front of him. "Everybody else is."

It was true. The humans seemed to love this spontaneous band, as they were jumping around, dancing, and singing. Even the bouncers had decided to just let them continue. Free entertainment, after all...and it'd probably start a riot if they tried to drag them off the stage.

And now England and Denmark were rocking out in a semi-spontaneous duet, while Prussia held the beat and grinned at Canada. Who just flushed even more intensely at the look.

Until an arm suddenly draped around his arm, effectively scaring the crap out of him.

"Ah, mon cher, how wonderful to run into you here!"

Oh great. _Everybody_ was here to witness the most embarrassing moment of his life. "Ah, France, you're here..."

"Mi amigo!" And Spain immediately threw his arms around his friend, beaming in happiness. "What are you doing here?"

"L'amour called me. Besides," and here France held up a scrap of paper, upon which was written an address and set of telephone numbers. "I greatly enjoy spending time amongst the populace."

"L'amour?" Canada was starting to feel semi-suspicious. "What are you talking about?"

France seemed a little surprised by the question. As he just looked at Canada for a moment before grinning. "Why, isn't it obvious, mon cher Mathieu? Prusse requested my help in finding a way into your heart. What sweet amour! I said that he should take you dancing. I'm rather shocked, actually, that he thought to dedicate a song to you. He's learning!" Slowly. But eventually he'd get there. Maybe.

...Eh? What? Prussia had...

His mind was _not _working very well right now.

"_I seem to be struck by you..."_

Prussia liked him. Prussia really liked him? In the same way that he liked Prussia? Which meant... Which meant...

"Come with me, mon cher!" France suddenly exclaimed, as his arm moved from Canada's shoulder to his waist. "Let the master of l'amour help you!"

"Ah, but..." He didn't want to move. He still needed time to process this new information.

France wasn't having any of that, though; he just led him rather forcibly off of the dance floor and toward the bar. Spain just standing there, unsure of what he should do.

Until he caught a glimpse of Romano standing by himself outside of the crowd, sipping from a glass of wine...

Ah, France could handle Canada now. He'd done his part in helping 'l'amour' as France would put it. Right now he needed to deal with his own 'l'amour' anyway. "Lovi!" He hurried to the other nation's side, sliding one arm around his Lovi's waist, the other taking the glass in his hand and setting it on a table behind them. "Dance with me now, Lovi!"

Romano jumped, startled by the sudden presence. And then cursed at him irritably. "Damn it. Wha—where the hell did you come from? No, I'm not dancing with you, bas—" And he was cut off mid-word by a pair of lips brushing against his.

It was so much easier to make Romano comply with what you wanted when you were kissing him. Spain managed to use the distraction to move Romano's hands into place. And then led him out onto the dance floor, laughing softly at the irritated glare he received in response once Romano figured out what had just happened.

"Bastard."

"You danced with Feli. Now it's my turn, right?"

* * *

A/N: So the whole thing with the song. I thought it was funny, since it's basically been the song I wrote most of the fic to...and then it actually was suggested by one of you. I figured that meant it was destined to be. (It also happens to be one of my favourite songs, so that helped too). Thanks to everyone else who gave suggestions. I now have an even more wicked long playlist of awesomeness.

And if I got any lyrics wrong, it's because my hearing isn't what it used to be ;D (Although I think they're all right, lol)

In other news. Who else is excited about Eurovision? I spent most of today (when I wasn't working on my paper) listening to the songs for this year. EEP!!! So excited!!!


	24. Chapter 24

**Changement**

**Part 24**

Prussia was rather confused. He'd only taken his eyes off Mattie for a few seconds—in order to execute a totally awesome drumstick roll that had definitely left everyone marveling at his awesomeness—and now all of a sudden he was gone.

That was totally not awesome. You didn't just disappear when someone had just dedicated a song to you. He should really know better...

Had he really hated it that much? France had kept saying that Mattie was a total romantic and Prussia had thought that having a song dedicated to you—especially when it was dedicated by the awesome Prussia—was pretty damn romantic.

But, maybe he hadn't liked it. Maybe he'd hated it. Maybe he was going to avoid him now since he'd been completely embarrassed.

Prussia almost completely lost the beat at that thought, receiving a rather intense glare from England when he had to fumble to catch up.

Damn it. He was awesome. So what if Mattie didn't like it? That wasn't his problem...

...Shit. And now he was panicking. What if he was angry about it? He didn't like being the centre of attention after all. What if he decided that he hated the other nation now?

And then he realized that he'd completely stopped playing and was now receiving an incredibly dirty look from England, who thankfully was just finishing up his song. One ending riff and then the crowd broke into loud cheers and catcalls.

England smirked at that and then headed toward the edge of the stage, motioning for Denmark and Prussia to follow him. Prussia hurriedly did so, more than ready to get off that stage and find Canada. Denmark, on the other hand, just stood there and basked in the cheers for a few more moments. "We'll be here all night!! Drinks on us!!"

England crossed back to the other nation and dragged him bodily off the stage at that remark, ignoring Denmark's squawks of protest as he was almost choked by his own collar. Once they had completely exited the stage, the Englishman dropped him right onto the ground and turned on Prussia with a rather fierce glare. "What the hell was that?"

"What was what?" In these sorts of situations, it was best to play dumb.

England took a step forward, glaring up at Prussia and poking him in the chest. "You fell apart on us. What's up with you tonight? You're acting weird."

"Yeah," Denmark agreed. "You goin' soft or something? Usually you're completely wasted by this point and trying to convince Artie here to do a striptease."

"I am not going soft!" The almighty Prussia did _not _go soft. Awesome people were awesome; therefore they did not go soft. Ever.

England scoffed, rolling his eyes at the remark.

"Ah, mon cher Angleterre. Do not tell me that you're really that inept at seeing the wonder that is l'amour."

Prussia honestly thought that he was about to die of a heart attack when France suddenly appeared out of the blue, throwing his arm around his shoulders in a companionable air. Or what would have been a companionable air if his other hand had actually stayed above the waist.

As it was, he yelped in surprise and immediately threw a punch at his friend, who easily ducked it—after all, he'd had a lot of practice—and instead made his way over to England, now throwing an arm around his shoulder and grinning lewdly as the other nation swore and attempted to free himself.

"Get off of me, you bloody frog."

"But, mon Angleterre," And here France adopted a sickeningly fake 'see how you've hurt me' tone. "You were asking why our cher Prusse is not acting like himself. And the answer is quite simple. He has fallen deeply and passionately in love with our dear Mathieu."

England frowned for a moment and then his eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Wait...you were being serious about dating Mattie when you were in that restaurant?"

Prussia looked rather confused by that statement. "What restaurant? I never said anything about dating Mattie."

"When you were with Germany... in that restaurant..." He frowned, trying to remember the name of the place where he and America had been having dinner before the git had to completely destroy the place with his horrible spying skills.

"What?! You were spying on me?!" Wait. That would explain that scream that he'd heard. And why all those waiters had been dropping stuff and why people had been screaming at each other. "Wow. You're a pretty terrible spy if that was you."

"That was America."

France grinned and then remarked, his voice sounding decidedly fake. "Oh, by the way, Prusse. You should see all of the attention that mon cher Mathieu was getting at the bar over there. At least five different guys asked to buy him a drink. Isn't that absolutely sweet of them?"

Prussia's reaction was immediate. "You left Mattie alone!? In here?! Looking like _that_?!"

"Oui. I had to come over here and say 'bonjour' to mon Angleterre." England was attempting to squirm away again, but was finding it rather difficult. Since France was not near as drunk as he was and was holding onto him rather firmly...

And Prussia immediately darted away, racing toward the bar, all thoughts now on Canada. And those idiots who were even _thinking _of hitting on him.

Leaving England alone with France.

"Ah, mon Angle—ow!!"

Unfortunately for him, England was not yet drunk enough that he was unaware of what France was about to try. And he was not about to succumb without a fight.

So he kicked him in the shin.

Unfortunately, he _was_ drunk enough that his kick didn't have quite the same force that it usually did. And all it really did was make it that much easier for France to catch him off balance and tug him forward.

Against his chest.

He grinned rather lecherously, feeling how England attempted to struggle away. Really, the Brit was really too sexy for his own good right now.

"Get your hands off me you fucking fro—"

And France was not about to allow him to finish.

Because, even though he was a huge fan of l'amour and had technically helped America and England get together... What America didn't know couldn't hurt him. And England looked ridiculously hot in this outfit.

So he instead decided to tug the protesting Englishman forward by his jacket and crush their lips together.

Much _much _too sexy for his own good.

* * *

A/N: Mwahaha!! xD

Sorry this took longer to get up, updating will be slower now, since I've started my travels.

So, as I'm sure many of you know, the planes have been down due to Icelandic volcanoes, so I haven't been able to go to Venice or Florence. However, I do have a place to stay and am getting good food because my mum has a friend in London. PLUS! I'm going to Edinburgh tonight and then staying with a friend of the family I'm staying with right now in the Lake District. So pretty!! So I'm sad about missing Venice and Florence, but at least I'm still going somewhere and I've got a (free) place to stay :) And if the planes are back up by Saturday, I'll be heading out to Rome and then Paris then!

So all in all, things are working out well. Thanks for everyone for your encouraging notes! Love you all!! :D (And think about the stories I'll have to tell. We're living history xD)


	25. Chapter 25

**Changement**

**Part 25**

"And what's your name, cutie?"

Canada was rather startled by the sudden voice by his ear; startled enough that he jumped rather violently in response. Almost right out of his seat. "Uh, wha—?"

A group of five guys had surrounded him while he wasn't paying attention, completely lost in thought. And, as he glanced forward, he realized that he was also surrounded by a rather impressive amount of empty glasses. Crap...

"Um, I'm Matthew."

One of them, probably the one who had first spoken, grinned at this remark and sat down in the empty seat beside him, flagging down the bartender as he did so. "Two of whatever he was drinking."

Another dropped into the seat on his opposite side, flashing him a look that was probably supposed to be flirting.

"I'm Tom," the first remarked as the beers came and he slid one in front of Canada. "What's somebody like you doing sitting all alone? Broke up with your girlfriend or something?"

"Um, no..." Canada usually would do anything to keep from being rude, but at the moment, he was so mentally exhausted that he just wanted to ask them to please go away and leave him alone.

Unfortunately, this Tom fellow didn't give him an opportunity to be rude. "So, where are you from? I've never seen you around here before."

"Canada..." He did not want to deal with these humans right now. He really _really _did not want to deal with these humans right now. Why had France suddenly decided to ditch him like that? Now he was stuck sitting by himself while he tried to figure out how to react to the fact that Prussia apparently liked him.

"Really? You're from Canada, eh?" He laughed as if he'd just made the most hilarious joke ever. Canada really wished that he weren't so polite. If he wasn't, then he wouldn't feel bad if he decked this guy.

He attempted to ignore him, downing the beer set out in front of him, hoping that the guy would take the hint and leave.

Unfortunately, he didn't.

Neither did the guy on his other side.

"So, you got a girlfriend, Matt?"

Please just go away. "Yes, I'm actually waiting for her right now."

"But she ain't here yet?" And suddenly a hand was resting on his leg and one of the other guys was leaning over his shoulder. He could smell beer on his breath...

Crap. Where the hell had France gone? Or Prussia...Where was Prussia?

"No...Oh, wait, there she is. Sorry, I gotta go." Canada attempted to stand up, but suddenly felt a hand on either shoulder, pushing him back down.

"Aw, come on. Why don't you dance with me?" Tom chuckled, leaning closer. He smelled like some mixture of beer, cigarettes, and the faintest twinge of vomit. Canada flinched slightly at the vile smell, searching the crowd desperately for France or Spain or Prussia or England or _anyone_ that he knew.

"Hey, bastard! Get your hands off my Mattie!" And, before Canada had a moment to react, Tom was down, his nose crunching under a fist. He immediately yelped, hands reaching to the nose which had quite probably been broken. And stared up into a pair of absolutely furious, ruby-red eyes.

Canada had never seen Prussia angry before. Never. No matter what happened, he was always perfectly at ease—he'd cause others to blow up, sure, but he never lost his temper himself.

Now he had and now he knew why it was that the other nations spoke about Prussia's military history with such fear. He honestly looked as if he were about to _kill _this human right now. His red eyes were glinting the exact colour of blood; his lips were drawn back in an animalistic snarl that showed slightly too-sharp teeth.

How in the world could he still look like so hot like that?

Wait... And finally Canada's alcohol-drenched mind realized exactly what it was that he was looking at. Prussia honestly looked as if he were about to kill this human... Kill. As in, commit probably the most serious crime against a human. And then he reached to the bar and grabbed an empty beer bottle, smashing the base against the wood...

Oh, shit. He actually _was _going to kill him...

"Gil!!" And suddenly Canada was on his feet, almost falling over due to the sudden motion. He definitely should not have been drinking so much. Especially since he was now apparently going to be trying to reason with an incensed Prussia. "Gil, don't..."

Prussia was completely ignoring him, his eyes on the human who was too terrified to move. "Fucking piece of shit. You keep your filthy hands off my Mattie."

"Dude, I'm sorry," the human squeaked, his voice congested due to the broken nose, which was causing blood to drip down his chin...

"Gil!" Canada hurriedly jumped forward just as Prussia brought the bottle-neck back, grabbing his arm before he could strike. The bartender, who had started to move toward them at the sudden sound of the bottle breaking, grabbed the other arm, effectively allowing the human the opportunity to crawl away.

Prussia immediately spun around, eyes flashing with bloodlust at the bartender, who quickly dropped the arm and took an automatic step backwards.

Canada held on even tighter. "Gilbert, I'm fine. Leave him alone. I'm perfectly fine. It's not worth it."

For a minute, he was terrified that Prussia might actually turn on him with the bottle or hit him or something. It really would not take much of anything for him to break free right now, after all. Canada could barely keep himself upright, let alone hold back a sober, furious, bloodthirsty Prussian.

But then, after a few moments of them staring at each other as if to see who would break first, Prussia slowly relaxed and then sighed.

"Damn it, Mattie. I wouldn't have actually killed him. I'd just have sent him to the hospital for a few months. He'd have recovered. Eventually."

"Gil, you can't do something like that. I had it under control."

Prussia snorted and shook his head slightly. "Obviously not, since you hadn't already punched that bastard in the face when I showed up."

Please. He could not deal with this right now. Especially not when Prussia was standing really really close to him... And the alcohol in his system was not making thinking very easy.

Actually, the only thing that he could really focus on right now was the fact that Prussia was standing close... And it wouldn't be hard to lean forward right now and... And Prussia liked him. Really liked him.

"Gil?" He started, hesitating when Prussia actually turned toward him with an expectant expression.

"What?"

"I—that song—" Canada froze, eyes nervously dipping toward the floor. Damn, this was embarrassing... "I—did you really mean it?"

And now Prussia was the one to freeze. His eyes widening slightly in panic... Oh crap, Mattie had...But was this a good thing? Maybe he hadn't hated it... But what if he had?

Oh fuck it all. He couldn't lie to those ridiculously pretty violet eyes.

"Ah...well...yeah. Yes. I—I just thought that since I think that you're pretty awesome, you deserved a pretty awesome song. And I—well—I kind of...I kind of like you. A lot."

For a moment, there was no reaction from the other nation. Who seemed to have frozen in shock.

Prussia attempted to save himself. "I mean, it's not like I—"

And he was interrupted.

As a pair of arms was thrown around his neck and a very excited Canadian attacked his lips with much more ferocity than the Prussian would have expected from the other nation.

For a few seconds, Prussia just stood there in shock. And then he realized that this was so totally unawesome. The awesome Prussia was not about to be outdone by anyone—not even Mattie.

So he decided to deepen the kiss, sliding his arms around Canada's waist and drawing him closer. Because the awesome Prussia was also an awesome kisser.

He was a tiny bit surprised when Mattie started giving back just as good as he was getting. Hmm, maybe Mattie was getting a little bit closer to Prussia's level of awesome...Who would have imagined that his adorable little Mattie would be so good at this?

And then they were interrupted—of course—by screaming from the dance floor.

"Holy shit!"

"Isn't anybody going to stop him?!"

"Fight!! Fight!! Fight!!"

"Don't you dare touch my Iggy!"

"I'm not yours, you bloody git! And don't you dare break his face in before I get the chance to!"

"Alfred, stop this! You're making a scene!"

"Break that French pervert's nose!"

"Lovi, don't say that!!"

"Gilbert-nii!" And suddenly Prussia was semi-tackled by a slightly hysterical Italian. "Gilbert-nii! Alfred is going to kill France-nii because he kissed Inghilterra!!"

Apparently he was hysterical enough that he was mixing up their country names, human names, and Italian names...

"Feli? What are you doing here?"

"Prussia-nii! You have to help save France-nii!" And Italy was tugging on his arm, attempting to drag him into the centre of the chaos.

"Ita—Feli—wait…I was just…" He glanced back at Canada who just responded with a slight shrug.

Fucking America.

* * *

A/N: Three more chapters. Wow. This went so fast. So I'll basically be finished with this by the time I get back to the States. *sad face*

So, right now I'm on the train coming back from the Lake District after a few totally awesome days of hiking up mountains, helping a shepherd herd his sheep (not that I did much, but I got to hold a lamb cuz of it), getting totally lost while walking around lakes… Twas much much fun :D And tonight I'll be heading out to Rome. EXCITING!!!

Anddddd… WE HAVE MORE FANART!!! Tamer Lorika has been darling enough to draw a picture for this story. Go to my profile to view it and SHOW LOVE!! :D


	26. Chapter 26

**Changement**

**Part 26**

Prussia was definitely not used to these sorts of situations. Usually _he _was the one who caused fights that needed to be broken up by an outside party. It felt as if something was wrong with the world if he was the one who was being asked to break up a fight.

Fucking America. Of course he had to decide to attempt to murder France right when he was in the middle of kissing Mattie. _His _Mattie.

If it were anyone but Italy asking him to do this, he would have told them 'hell no' and let France get whatever was coming to him. It was his own fault for deciding to go after England in the first place when it was quite clear that he and America were together. Since they had _helped _the two of them get together. Then again, this was France. He wasn't about to stop going after someone that he wanted just because they were with someone else.

"Per favore!" And Italy was tugging even more desperately at his arm. "America's really _really _angry, Gil-Gil and I think he might actually hurt France-nii."

Gil-Gil? Since when had he gotten _that _nickname? Oh, shit—and now Italy was starting to tear up. "Ah, fine. Ja, I'll do it. Just don't cry. Francis will be fine."

Italy definitely didn't look convinced, but he managed to hold the tears back and nod once in response. Then he continued dragging Prussia toward the centre of the dance floor.

Damn it, and now he was going to be forced to intervene in a fight between America—a very jealous, possessive America, and France—who most likely deserved what he was getting.

The things he did for this adorable little Italian.

They managed to finally make their way to the centre after pushing through the crowds, Italy weaving through with ease, Prussia pushing people out of the way if needed, and Canada following as closely as he could. The humans had created an empty space in the centre, not wanting to get too close, which allowed him a view of the situation.

France was actually on the floor right now, one hand held against his nose, the other held up as if hoping that it would deflect the fists that were probably about to smash into his face again. He was babbling in French, too fast for Prussia to translate. Possibly begging for mercy from the incensed American who was standing right over him, fists balled in preparation of another attempt to break his face in.

England probably would have been joining the fight—judging by the curses that he was throwing at France right now—if it weren't for the fact that Germany was holding him back and attempting to reason with him. Failing rather miserably at it, too. And Denmark and Romano were both standing nearby, happily encouraging America. While Spain attempted to scold Romano into stopping.

Prussia took this all in and then grinned to himself. Time for the awesome him to make his awesome entrance. Although. He paused for a moment and then glanced back at Canada, holding out his hand in a silent request.

Canada smiled happily in response and took the offered hand, violet eyes brilliant as he clutched the pale fingers in his hand.

Yes, the awesome Prussia would make his awesome entrance _with_ the also awesome Mattie.

"How come you didn't wait to start the fight until the awesomeness was here?"

Denmark grinned and motioned toward France, who was now scowling up at Prussia. "Blame these two. Apparently Francis here decided to go after Artie while Alfred's back was turned and Alfred wasn't too happy about it."

America turned and glared at Prussia. Seriously glared. Like the sort of glare that plainly read 'you're next, bastard'. Surprising the ex-nation. What in the world was that look for?

"Butt out, Prus—Gilbert. This is between me and Francis."

Ouch. Harsh. Someone was apparently rather pissed off and attempting to take it out on the awesomeness.

And then Canada stepped forward slightly, not releasing Prussia's hand. "Come on, Al, just leave him alone. I'm sure he's sorry." He glanced toward France, who was attempting to scoot backwards, away from the American. Unfortunately for him, he forgot that England happened to be standing in that direction, being held back by Germany.

He received a nasty kick in the back of the head when he moved back just a few feet too far.

"Ow! Oui. Oui." He attempted an innocent look, while rubbing at the back of his head and glaring back at England. Who looked rather pleased with himself.

And now America took a good look at his brother and noticed that he and Prussia were holding hands and...

"No!!"

The shout was loud enough to startle not only the two nations at the receiving end, but also everyone else in the surrounding area, including most of the humans. Many of whom jerked backwards, quieting as they watched with interest, curious about what was going to happen next.

"No, what?" Prussia finally questioned. The other nations were all silent as well. Italy had been terrified by the noise and had run over to hide behind Germany, who was now holding a much more docile England. Romano had also been startled and was now clinging to Spain's arm, seemingly without realizing it. Spain looked rather happy about this sudden turn of events. Even if he'd also been scared out of his wits by the sudden shout.

"There is no way that you're going out with my little brother!!" America shouted, pointing toward their entwined hands. "The hero won't allow it!"

For a moment, Canada and Prussia both just stared at the American in confusion. Wondering what in the world he could possibly be talking about. Then Prussia snorted and tugged Canada closer. "Hey, if Canada and I want to go out then we can go out."

And now France jumped up, still holding his bloody nose, but otherwise seeming to have completely forgotten about his injury entirely. "So you've finally admitted l'amour!!"

Spain clapped his hands excitedly, beaming brightly. "So our plan worked!"

America now flashed Spain a glare as well. Or attempted to flash him a glare. The one that he received in response from Romano was enough to make him second-guess the intelligence of threatening Spain in any way. After all, Romano had the mafia. And he knew how much of a pain in the ass the mafia could be.

"Yay!!" And suddenly Canada was attacked with a hug by a very happy Italy. "I'm so happy! I knew that you'd get together and now you have! Ve~"

"Um...thanks?" Canada still wasn't sure how he should respond to the sudden attention that he was receiving from the other nations. Was this how it was always going to be from now on? Now that he and Prussia were...were...together? Maybe... Hopefully together...

"Hey!!" This was definitely not the response that America had hoped for. Why wasn't anyone else upset about this? He glanced toward England, hoping for some support from him, at least. And wasn't Romano supposed to be on his side? He should've known better than to ask for help from someone who was dating one of Prussia's best friends. "Iggy, you aren't going to let them go out, are you?" After all, Canada used to be his colony too...

England hesitated for a moment, glancing between the two of them. Then he sighed and slipped out of Germany's grip, which had slackened as England had stopped struggling.

He then marched right up to Prussia, weaving slightly on his feet as he stared into the ex-nation's eyes.

"Do you love Matthew?"

Not what America had been expected. He started to open his mouth to interject. But was silenced by a look from England. Holy crap, he looked sexy right now. And intimidating. But mostly sexy.

There was a very long pause as Prussia stared at the shorter nation, eyes widened at the sudden question. And then he glanced at Canada, who was giving him a rather hopeful look.

Shit. He couldn't just answer something like that completely out of the blue...

"Uh...um..."

England leaned forward and poked him in the chest. Hard. Eyes flashing dangerously. "Answer the question. Do. You. Love. Matthew?"

"Arthur, he doesn't need to—" Canada started to cut in.

England flashed him a look that immediately shut him up. And caused him to move even closer to Prussia in hope of protection in case England attacked.

Prussia had finally found his voice. Kind of. He managed to force and then started, "Ah, well..."

"Yes or no. Answer the question."

The awesome Prussia was not afraid. But it was probably better to answer the question before England killed him. "Yes! Yes, I love Mattie. Okay? The awesome me is in love with Mattie..."

Canada's grip around his hand instantly tightened and then suddenly the hand was gone completely and—before he had a chance to react—he was having the life squeezed out of him by an absolutely ecstatic Canada.

England nodded, as if everything was now taken care of. "Good."

"Iggy!!" And now America looked as if the entire world had completely betrayed him. "You can't be okay with this! He's Pr—He's Gilbert!!"

England paused, frowned in thought, and glanced back at Prussia. Who was now attempting to look completely innocent. While also attempting to breathe, since Canada was kind of choking him...

"You're right... I don't know if I completely trust him with Matthew."

America grinned. Score! Now Iggy would be on his side!

England moved back into Prussia's personal bubble, staring up at him with a very serious gaze. Startling Canada into moving to the side; thankfully loosening his grip on Prussia's neck.

Prussia had to resist the urge to step back. There was no way that he was intimidated by England.

"Now, Gilbert. You're in love with Matthew, right? Good. As long as you are, then I don't have a problem with this. I just want Matthew to be happy. So as long as he's happy, everything will be fine."

Prussia was having a flashback to his conversation with France.

"However, if you do anything to make him unhappy, I will personally make the rest of your existence a living hell. It would be very very easy. After all," and here he leaned forward so the eavesdropping humans couldn't hear, "I'm sure you're aware of what I _used _to do to those who crossed me."

Prussia was not afraid. He was not at all afraid. Okay, maybe he was a tiny bit afraid. But fuck, yes, he knew what England used to do to people back when he ruled the sea and much of the rest of the world.

"Ah, yeah. Yeah."

A few of the humans snickered at that. To which he flashed them rather irritated glares. He'd like to see them attempt to stand up to the former British Empire when he was in his overprotective mode.

"Good. As long as we're agreed." And now England took a step backwards and then turned toward America, who was gaping at them as if his entire world had fallen down.

"But...but..."

"Come on, Alfred. We're going home. I'm getting bored with this." He grabbed onto America's hand and started dragging him away. Ignoring the looks that America kept throwing over his shoulder toward his brother and Prussia. Although he did pause once and glanced back at France. "And don't think that I'll forget about tonight, frog. I'm not _that _drunk."

France just groaned.

"B—but! Iggy! He—Matt—we can't—"

And America was dragged out, still sputtering as he waved desperately at his brother and the Prussian.

Who, in his awesome maturity, took the opportunity to stick his tongue out at him. Receiving a light punch on the shoulder from Canada.

To which he responded with a grin. "So, you ready to go home and deal with the hangover you're going to have in the morning?"

Canada frowned slightly, but then nodded. "Okay..."

Prussia smiled at the reluctance in the other nation's voice and began to lead him out from the crowd of people. "All right, everybody. The awesome show is over. I've gotta take Mattie home now."

He was immediately greeted by quite a few groans of disappointment. The free entertainment was leaving already? Now they'd have to entertain themselves the old-fashioned way. Definitely not as much fun.

"Hey! Don't worry! I'm still here!" And now Denmark ran back to the stage and climbed back into place, grabbing onto the electric guitar that England had been playing previously. "Fuck, yeah!! We're gonna keep rocking until we pass out!! Who's with me?!"

And he was greeted by an almost deafening scream from the humans, who all turned their attention to this new entertainment, ignoring everyone else.

Which suited Germany fine, as he took the opportunity to take Italy's hand and tug him toward the exit. "Come on, let's go home, Feli."

Romano immediately flashed them a glare and then tugged on Spain's arm, which he still hadn't realized he'd been clinging too. The action forced Spain out of his happy daze. "Come on, idiot Spagna. Before that potato bastard does something to my brother."

"Sí, Lovi! Whatever you say, querido!"

Romano instantly blushed. "I'm not your 'querido'!"

"You look just like a tomato, Lovi~ Ow! Lovi, you shouldn't headbutt people!!"

And there was now another club where the nations would never again be allowed to enter.

* * *

A/N: So right now I'm basically just waiting to head out to Paris tomorrow. Rome was quite cool, although I will admit that I love London better... Still, it was quite quite cool to visit Lovi ;)

And I'm trying to decide what I'm doing for my next story. I want to keep up this series, but I'm having issues coming up with a plot. Either way, I probably won't be starting it til I get back in the States (if I even finish this before I leave for the States, which is up in the air right now).


	27. Chapter 27

**Changement**

**Part 27**

His head was absolutely, positively, one hundred percent killing him. It honestly felt—to use the old, overused comparison—like someone was pounding on his head with a club.

Ugh... He hadn't even drunk that much. At least, not much compared to what England and Denmark had drank.

Canada groaned as he rolled over, reaching out blindly with one arm in search of Kuma-what's his name. He was never drinking again. Ever.

And suddenly he felt something much more solid under his fingertips…Something which was most definitely not covered with fur. Although it was moving up and down, like it was breathing. And then it made a soft noise like a groan when he touched it.

Canada immediately yelped in surprise.

What the—how—who? He hadn't gotten _that _drunk last night, had he? He'd only had a few drinks!

For a moment, Canada just remained in place, eyes closed as if hoping that whatever it was would go away if he ignored it. It took him at least a minute to finally work up the nerve to slowly _slowly _open his eyes, rather terrified of what he might see.

A head of silvery strands was what he was first able to focus on. A head that was resting on _his _favourite pillow. Right beside him.

He yelped again; this time louder, and this time actually waking up the other person that was sharing his bed.

Prussia groaned irritably at being woken and rolled over so he was facing Canada, sighing as he wrapped an arm around his bed mate before opening his eyes. "Mm, too early." He nuzzled his face into the other's chest, not doing anything to calm Canada's panicked state.

What? Why was Prussia in his bed?

And then he suddenly remembered. All of last night's memories jerking back in one huge mass of images and sounds and... Prussia had kissed him. And Prussia had said that—said that he liked him. No, more than that. He'd said that he _loved _him.

Prussia had said that he was in love with him.

"Mm," and suddenly Prussia moaned again, finally lifting his head to look into Canada's eyes. Staring at him unseeingly for a few seconds before he yawned and questioned, as if this was entirely normal, "So when are you going to start the pancakes?"

Canada wasn't sure how to respond to that sort of question right now. Half of him was convinced that he had hallucinated this whole thing. Or maybe he was dreaming. Yes, he could be dreaming.

But hell, if this was a dream, it was the most persistent dream that he'd ever had.

"Ah, Gilbert..."

Prussia yawned again and then continued, "Blueberry pancakes. Or...no, the ones with those little chocolate chips in them! With maple syrup. Lots of maple syrup. You can bring them back up here."

"Gilbert, why are you in my bed?" And why was he supposed to be making pancakes when he was the one with the massive hangover? Right now, he just wanted some aspirin. And answers of what the hell was going on. But he'd prefer the aspirin at the moment.

Prussia flashed him a look, as if it should be obvious. "Well, since we're together now, I figured that I should make your bed more awesome with my presence. Besides, you kind of wouldn't let go of me last night."

"E—eh?"

"So, what about pancakes?" And now Prussia slowly sat up, rubbing at his eyes for a few seconds before turning an attractive smirk on the still very confused Canadian. "So, how about this? You make your awesome pancakes and I'll make some awesome wurst! We can make breakfast together."

Canada just continued to stare at him. "Gilbert...um... What exactly happened last night?" He could remember the whole part where Gilbert had said that he liked—loved—him, but after that was a bit of a blur.

For a moment, the Prussian didn't respond. Instead, he just turned to stare at Canada, who was still lying on the bed, now looking up at the other with a slightly nervous expression.

"You don't remember? Wow, you really don't have any alcohol tolerance, do you? Well, Artie, Matthias, and I put on a totally awesome show at the club and I dedicated a song to you, then you ran off for whatever reason and I had to rescue you from these stupid humans that thought that they could steal my Mattie from me, and then we were in the middle of making out when your stupid brother got into a fight with Francis since Francis was harassing Artie—seriously, you'd think this was a new thing from the way he acted—and then I had to go and break it up so Feli wouldn't cry and then we left the club and made out in the taxi and came home and you wouldn't let go of my awesomeness so I ended up sleeping in your bed with you. Which was awesome, but if we're gonna make a habit of this, we should definitely get a bigger bed. Especially if your white furry bear thing is gonna try to crowd me out again."

For a moment, Canada just blinked. And made a mental note never to ask Prussia to sum something up again. He'd barely been able to follow that.

"So, does this mean that we're...officially going out?"

Prussia hesitated. And then grinned slightly at the other male. "I think it would be pretty awesome if we were official. Don't you?"

Canada felt a full blush blossom over his face. And then he smiled back. "Well, yeah..."

"Awesome!" And now Prussia bounced up from the bed, the sudden shout sending a piercing jolt of pain through the Canadian's head. "Now, pancakes!"

"Gilbe..."

Prussia completely ignored him as he darted around the room, talking a mile a minute about how he'd start moving his stuff over from West's house this weekend. If they moved this dresser, they could put his beanbag chair there and they'd have to get a bigger bed and he would make a more comfortable place for Gilbird to sleep.

Canada just watched in bemusement, his mind taking a while to catch up with what was actually happening.

Once it did, he jerked to a seated position, instantly regretting it as he yelped in pain. "Ah—ow—Gilbert?! What are you talking about? You can't—I mean, just because we're dating doesn't mean you can just move in with me!"

Prussia turned to look at him, obviously not understanding this. "Why not? You need more awesomeness in your life, after all. And you can't get that if I'm not around. Besides, this will be much more convenient for getting pancakes every morning."

Not like Prussia didn't already randomly show up on his doorstep just about every morning, demanding pancakes. Canada almost regretted the day that he'd introduced the Prussian to his favourite food. Almost.

"Well, I mean...shouldn't we think about this some more?"

Prussia laughed at that, walking over to the dresser, where Canada now noticed that a little fluff of yellow was sitting on top of one of his books. "Nope. Why think about it?" He picked up the fluff, which cheeped at him, and set it on top of his head. Then he turned toward Canada and walked across the bed to stand in front of him, bending down slightly to kiss his forehead.

"Fine, since you're being difficult, I'll just make wurst and you can sleep off your hangover. But just this once. I expect extra pancakes tomorrow." And then he turned and sauntered out of the room, leaving Canada to just sit and stare after him.

He was starting to think that his life was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

* * *

A/N: And so ends the PruCan part of Changement. Next chapter shall be an omake ;D And I already know which couple it'll focus on, which really shouldn't be too hard to guess.

For the next story, I'm going to try putting up a poll, as I've gotten 3 major requests for couples, any of which I'd be willing to try my hand at. So I decided to let you guys pick which one... I'll try to get that up today, but that'll depend on how long it takes, since I have very limited internet right now.


	28. Omake

A/N: AmericaxEngland omake. As with the other omakes, this is a slightly higher rating than the rest of the story, but still T.

* * *

**Changement**

**Omake**

"You. Drive."

America barely had time to react when England suddenly tossed his car keys at him without any sort of warning besides the irritated bark. Thankfully he had pretty good reflexes, so he just managed to grab them before they fell onto the ground. He just gaped at the other nation for a moment, though, shocked that he was actually letting _him _drive. England never let him behind the wheel of his car if he could help it...

"Hurry up, git." England suddenly interrupted him out of his daze. He was standing on the passenger's side of the car, glaring at him irritably. "I'm drunk; I can't drive. So hurry up and take back to my room."

America slowly responded, walking to the driver's side of the car and slipping inside, glancing over at the other nation quickly as he attempted to slide the key into the ignition.

He completely missed the ignition, but it was a good attempt.

England looked...looked...It was hard to think of a word to describe how England looked. He was scowling, obviously not pleased with the fact that he'd been forced to leave the club early. The scowl really just made him look even sexier, though. And America's eyes were again drawn to those pouting lips, and specifically to that lip piercing.

He'd never kissed anyone with a lip piercing before...

No! America forcibly dragged his attention away from the other nation. No! He had to think about how he was going to deal with the Prussia problem. He couldn't be distracted by the fact that England looked incredibly sexy right now.

Said nation suddenly flashed him an absolutely scathing look, as if he'd somehow read his mind. "Hurry up. I could get home faster if I walked..."

America hurriedly responded to this, driving out of the parking lot and out onto the highway, attempting to ignore the other nation and not drive off of the road. Which was a lot more difficult than it really should be.

England, on the other hand, was openly staring at the other nation. Yeah, he was drunk. But not yet drunk enough to make his thoughts entirely incoherent.

It really shouldn't have surprised him that America would randomly show up at their night out. France had been a bit of a surprise. And Spain...And Romano...And Germany and Italy... Really, all of the nations needed to learn how to mind their own business. Although that was definitely the human side of them. Humans could never mind their own business either.

Still, he couldn't say that he was entirely disappointed that his night was interrupted by the American...

Since right now, they were heading back to his hotel room...

There really were a lot of things that you could do in a hotel room that you couldn't do in the middle of a club. Or you couldn't do in the middle of a club without getting thrown out so hard that you bounced...

"Um...Iggy?"

And he jerked out of his thoughts, glancing over at the idiot. Wha—oh—they'd stopped. At the hotel. Wow, he must have been really been deep in thought to miss the entire trip over here.

America cleared his throat at this, almost looking nervous. "Um—we're here..."

"Help me to my room," England demanded, as he pushed his door open. He stumbled a little bit, but managed to keep from actually falling. Mostly because America grabbed his arm and held him up.

"You all right, Iggy?" the younger nation questioned, sounding slightly worried. England rolled his eyes in response. Of course he was all right.

America was a little nervous right now. He wasn't sure if he should leave England on his own, but he was worried that if he did take him up to his room, he might not be able to control himself from...um... divesting the other nation of those sinfully tight pants... And he was pretty sure that England would not be happy with him tomorrow if he attempted to take advantage of the fact that he was inebriated right now.

But England couldn't even walk in a straight line... And it wouldn't be heroic for him to leave the other nation alone without anyone to take care of him.

"All right, Iggy. The hero is going to help you to your hotel room." Then he could maybe call someone to make sure that nothing happened to him during the night. How much trouble could he get into inside a hotel room, anyway?

England snorted in response, but was actually surprisingly docile as he was helped down the hall and into the elevator. Then out through the doors and down another hall to the door of his hotel room, where America let him lean against the wall as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

And England immediately pounced.

America didn't even time to react before he was knocked right onto the carpet inside England's room, where he lay—dazed—for a few moments. Until he heard the door slam shut and the lock click closed.

At that sound, he immediately sat up and stared in shock at the other nation. Who was leaning back against the now-closed door and staring down at the younger nation with a triumphant smirk.

Wha—what?

"Iggy? What—?"

England took a step forward and knelt down in front of the other nation, covering his mouth with his palm. "Shut up. I don't want to hear anything idiotic coming out of your mouth, git."

Holy crap. The only intelligible thought that was going through his head right now was 'holy shit, Iggy is so freaking sexy'...

And he was acting surprisingly sober right now.

And then all thoughts completely disappeared as England removed his palm from America's mouth and replaced it with his lips.

It took America all of two seconds to respond, hands immediately sliding around the other nation's waist and tugging him closer.

He immediately began to kiss him as thoroughly as he possibly could, relishing the moans and sighs of approval that came from the smaller body. He'd make sure to kiss every bit of his mouth, to get rid of any trace of that French bastard. Because Iggy was _his_. Only his. This mouth was only going to be invaded by him...

America could now feel England's piercing against his lips... The metal was cool, the feeling rather odd, although definitely enjoyable. Maybe he'd ask England to wear piercings more often.

And suddenly the pressure against his lips was gone. He made a sound of disapproval at this, slowly opening his eyes to see England sitting on the large, king-sized bed that took up much of the rather large hotel room. Half-lidded eyes were staring at America with an incredibly sensual, lustful expression. An expression that plainly read 'come hither'.

Like he was going to say no to that command. America was across the room without another thought, lips pressing against England's again as he knelt on the bed and encircled England's neck with his powerful arms.

This was perfect. Finally his goal of seducing England...

And he didn't get to finish that thought. As the arms that had begun to snake around his neck tightened infinitesimally and—before he had a chance to react—he was thrown hard against something firm, but relatively soft.

The movement startled him enough that he couldn't react for a few seconds, his eyes taking a few moments to adjust. When they finally did, he was greeted with the image of England leaning over him, an attractive smirk apparent on his lips. And he slowly also became vaguely aware of the fact that England happened to be sitting on his stomach, effectively restricting his movements.

"You've been wanting this for a while, haven't you?" England questioned, his voice rather mocking. And that smirk was still there... America was reminded of the stories that he'd heard from some of the other nations. About England's pirate days. He wondered if this was the sort of expression he would have held back then.

He didn't trust his voice right now, since it would probably do something embarrassing like squeak if he tried to say anything. So he just nodded, receiving an even cockier smirk in response.

England leaned down again, lips ghosting against his. "You're an idiot, Alfred. A complete idiot." And then their lips were brushing again in a gentle, adoring kiss. America managed to move his arms enough to capture England's waist, keeping them pressed against each other until England lifted his head and continued rather breathlessly, "A complete idiot that I'm rather madly in love with..."

America grinned at that, fingers digging into the small of the other nation's back. "And you're a delusional, grumpy old man who can't cook and is way too fucking sexy for his own good." He knew that he was going to get yelled at for that remark—or at least for the first part, so he hurriedly captured those lips with his own again.

Operation Seduce Iggy was apparently a success. Although he hadn't actually planned this part out... And England seemed to be the one taking charge. Still, a hero knew how to improvise when necessary.

And this was a good time to learn how to improvise. When you had a ridiculously sexy England sitting on your stomach. Staring at you in that way... Even America could read the atmosphere in this sort of situation. And it was starting to excite him.

England didn't seem like he quite wanted to move right now, however. As he just continued to sit there and stared down at the other nation, fingers distractedly running along his chest, feeling his muscles through his McDonald's T-shirt. England couldn't wait to strip him of _that _article of clothing.

"Iggy?" America started to question. Before he quieted at the glare he received from the other nation.

"Quiet. It's nice to actually have a relaxed moment for once." The fingers that had been sliding along his chest suddenly moved toward his hair and America sighed in contentment as he felt a set of thin fingers run through his blond strands.

It didn't take long, however, before he grew impatient with this. Sure, he liked cuddling and doing this sort of thing with England sometimes...But he'd been trying to get the other nation into the mood to actually take their relationship to the next level for what seemed like forever. And right now, he didn't want to wait any longer.

This was probably going to tick off the other nation, too, but he could deal with that later.

And with that, England suddenly found himself lying back against the sheets, a very excited American staring down at him with bright, lust-filled eyes.

"You really need to stop teasing me."

England rolled his eyes in response. "And you need to learn some patience, git." Not that he really needed to complain, as he was quite happy with the way things were proceeding right now.

America smirked and shrugged slightly. "Your fault."

"And how is this my fault?"

"You're wearing something like that." Their lips met again and America played with the lip ring for a few seconds, licking and biting at the piece of metal, receiving unintelligible responses from the other nation that made him bite harder. "You knew that it would drive me crazy."

"You weren't even supposed to be at that club, git."

"I had to be a hero and rescue my brother from the evil clutches of Prussia!" Which reminded him; he'd need to start planning out some new way to deal with this dilemma, since the whole 'follow them to the club and stop them there' idea hadn't worked.

However, he could start thinking about that later. Right now, he had more important things to worry about.

One of which made him smirk down at the male lying beneath him. "You never told me something, Iggy."

"What?" England looked a little irritated at this remark. Since America was engaging in a chat with him, instead of doing something much more productive and enjoyable.

America smirked, fingers running along the chains resting over England's hips. He liked this outfit. England should wear stuff like this more often. As long as he was the only one to see him in it, as he definitely didn't want the other nations to see England looking so incredible. The American took his own sweet time answering the query, England's scowl darkening as the seconds crept by. "Simple, Iggy..."

And suddenly his lips were right against England's ear and he whispered, in his huskiest and most seductive voice, "You never told me where your tattoo was."

For a moment, England didn't respond, eyes widening slightly in surprise. Before they suddenly narrowed again and he smirked back up at the other nation, arms again wrapping around his neck. And then he whispered into the other's ear, breath hot against America's already overheated skin.

"Find it."

**OWARI**

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**A/N: And she is finished!! Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, drew fanart. I love you guys; you're the reason that I write these. Hearts and love for everyone!! Next off, the poll for which couple shall be the focus of the next TMAMT story is still open, probably for like...3 or 4 or 5...or who knows how many more days...then I'll start on the actual story.

Also, since I know some of you have been semi-following my trip. I'm home now! Paris was absolutely lovely. It also gave me some ideas for one-shots that I'll probably work on every so often. Parisians are such interesting people, haha. Although I did have a not so fun scare in Paris, since this jerk broke into our hostel and stole my debit card (along with an ipod, money, and a credit card from other people). Thankfully, my roomie didn't have hers stolen so everything turned out fine. And he only got away with like 80 bucks that the bank will probably reimburse... Yeah... other than that, I had a ton of fun in Paris. But now I'm home in the States for a while ;D


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